


Culture Shock

by tcheschire



Series: Culture Shock [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Are His Brother And His Company, Because The Only Things That Boy Cares About, Corporate Misogyny, Duelist Reader, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Growth, Kaiba Being a Great Boss, PTSD, Post-Canon, Reader-Insert, Recovery, Silicon Valley Bros Being Bros, Slow Burn, it'll happen, you know what that is?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-01-23 12:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 105,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21320095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcheschire/pseuds/tcheschire
Summary: The gaming startup that you work for is in a heavily saturated area, and needs something big to stay afloat in the competitive market. Your employer has an idea for a partnership with a foreign company that has some experience maintaining its dominance in the field, and eyes are on you and your past experiences with a legendary tournament to help navigate negotiations.
Relationships: Kaiba Seto/Reader
Series: Culture Shock [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647808
Comments: 300
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AKA I recently started rewatching all the anime I used to watch in high school and discovered that Crunchyroll has the original Japanese with subs, so I'm halfway through Battle City and I'm aflood with nostalgia and way back on my shit. Originally this was going to be a much different fic, which I may still write if it ever develops like a real plot beyond "Kaiba probably doesn't get along with his head of HR".
> 
> But then I dug out my deck from when I played, and I breezed through Sacred Cards, and went "lol nah".
> 
> You'll have to excuse if the first couple chapters feel a little stiff. It's been a loooong time since I've written anything. I'm working on another fic that may or may not just be for me, but it'll help me stretch my writing legs.

“Hey, you got a sec?”  
  
You looked up at your name, pushing aside the articles you were highlighting when you saw whose shaggy head was hovering just inside your office’s door.  
  
“Justin,” you greeted, gently capping the highlighter and placing it gently on the magazine, threading your fingers into your lap as you swiveled to face him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
He swerved his frame into your office, depositing himself comfortably into one of the chairs facing your desk, slinging an arm across the back of it as he perched an ankle on the opposite knee. “Had some things I wanted to bounce off you,” he announced, gesturing unnecessarily with one hand, jiggling his foot so that his sandal bounced with every other word.  
  
“I’m all ears.”  
  
Though Justin was the CEO of the company, he hated the title; he claimed anything with “executive” in the title was pompous and smug, and he much preferred to be referred to as “the ideas guy.” He claimed it made his position sound more neutral and laid back, which was the sort of culture he was trying to cultivate in his new startup gaming application company – after the six months that you had spent as a senior in the marketing department, you could not help but feel that it made his position sound pompous and smug.  
  
He raked a hand through his thick, curly hair, pushing it from his eyes. “So revenue’s been up this quarter because of Farmhand,” he prefaced, referencing the company’s farming simulator – a “gimme game”, as he referred to it, as he wanted a known quantity to get his fledgling company off the ground in the saturated market of Silicon Valley. “Now I want us to come out with something big.”  
  
You inclined your head, leaning back. You knew essentially where this was going, since he had inquired only a couple of months ago about some of the background projects that you had worked on when you were still in college, and had been especially interested to hear that you had worked with a previous First Lady’s office and her endeavors to get children fit. Justin had been enamored with the idea of pairing games with health – from what you knew of him, he had played on some of the more groundbreaking active console games when he was a child, and he hadn’t been able to let the idea go.  
  
“Now,” he continued, “we aren’t gonna be breaking big ground, coming on the heels of You Know What, but I think if we can pair up the same concept with another game that needs a comeback, we can totally boom the market, you know?”  
  
“'Boom the market’,” you parroted, your brow furrowing. “Yeah, totally. Which game were you thinking needs the comeback? Cluedo, maybe? Monopoly?”  
  
Your tone went over his head, and he laughed, waving a hand in the air pleasantly. “Nah, man, Monopoly’s never gone out of style. I’m thinking something overseas.” He landed you with a meaningful look, his smile creeping over his face conspiratorially.  
  
You hated when he did this. Because Justin was a bit of a superstitious man, he didn’t like to use names – he would often use epithets for competitors, “You Know What” being his favorite, allowing the context to speak for him. Most of the time, it wasn’t terribly difficult to figure out: for all his bragging as the “ideas man”, Justin was not a terribly creative one. Generally, whatever had come up in the news on the television in the breakroom within the last few days was what he could be referring to, although sometimes he had _eureka_ moments of true creativity.  
  
You shook your head, smiling at him gently. “You’ll have to help me out.”  
  
His grin widened, and his posture straightened. “You used to play that card game, right? The one – “  
  
“You mean Duel Monsters?” This truly surprised you. To begin, although Duel Monsters had lost its steam in the American market (in a fit of irony, as it was an American game), it had maintained its place in the gaming hierarchy overseas, especially in Japan. Additionally, you couldn’t imagine what had caused him to make the connection – as far as you were aware, nothing monumental had happened that put the game in the media, everything generally status quo. “You want to mix Duel Monsters with Po – “  
  
“Hey now.” He held up a hand, grin still affixed. “No need to jinx it.”  
  
“I mean…” You paused, chewing your lip, glancing at the articles that you had set aside. Many of the magazines and journals were health and fitness related, and you had been tasked with looking for trends within certain age groups in the last decade or so. “Yeah, I played it a long time ago. Probably about ten years? Maybe a little more?”  
  
Justin raised his eyebrows expectantly.  
  
"It isn’t a bad idea,” you ventured, diving right in. “Combining the two. Po – You Know What has already set a lot of the groundwork for how an active, mobile game like that could be laid out. We could adapt and variate pretty easily. And there’s precedent with a few of Duel Monsters’ bigger tournaments – like Duelist Kingdom, and especially Battle City.”  
  
In a show of faux-revelation, Justin put a hand on his chest and leaned forward. “Oh man! Battle City! Wasn’t that that one tournament you were in? You didn’t do half bad, right?”  
  
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, but unsure why, you paused. “I didn’t make the finals or anything, but no,” you admitted, “I didn’t do half bad.”  
  
“And who did you play against when you were disqualified, again?” he asked, feigning interest.  
  
Realization dawned on you, and you felt the ice beneath your feet become a great deal thinner. “It’s not a bad idea,” you repeated hesitantly. A thought struck you, and you rolled over to rifle through a stack of magazines on the bookshelf beside your desk. “Hang on.”  
  
Finding what you were looking for, a semi-recent, American edition of Duelist Monthly, you flipped through the pages to an article on the history of the Duel Disk. You stood, moving around your desk to hand it to Justin, who took the magazine and glanced through the article, raising his eyebrows at you over his shoulder for elaboration.  
  
“KaibaCorp is celebrating the fifteen-year anniversary of the Duel Disk, which was groundbreaking for its time,” you explained, standing to move closer to him, leaning over his shoulder to point out a couple of key paragraphs. “It really changed the nature of the game, and they’ve been making their advancements in the industry based on this for a long time. But even though it’s still a wildly popular game, it’s sort of…” You paused, considering, tilting your hand back and forth. “Plateaued? It hasn’t really dipped in these fifteen years, but there hasn’t been much growth either. But because the level of popularity has maintained, they don’t really want to risk jeopardizing that.”  
  
Justin’s grin returned, and with it your feeling of discomfort. “Sounds to me like they could use a big idea.”  
  
You had to bite your cheek at the comment, glad that he couldn’t see your face. It was certainly a true statement: KaibaCorp was in need of another breakthrough. Not for lack of trying, as you had been following their developments off and on since you had joined the gaming industry a few years back, but there was no kind way to phrase to your boss how wildly arrogant it was to believe that he had a solution for a foreign multi-million dollar industry.  
  
“It’s worth exploring, certainly,” you agreed instead.  
  
“Great!” Justin rose, tossing the magazine back to you. “I’m glad you agree. We’ll meet with a few others throughout the week, and we’ll get it planned.”  
  
_Just like that_, you thought weakly as he strode from your office, flashing you the peace sign.  
  


* * *

  
Meetings, by and large, were informal affairs. As was typical of the tech startup environment, many of the people on the team preferred a laid-back culture, and so whenever there was a meeting called you found yourself either arranging tall tables in the corner of a brewery or negotiating with the hostess of a neighborhood gastropub. “_To get everyone in the mindset_”, Justin had called for his fellow executives, his favorite head developers, and yourself to meet at a trendy sushi bar along the downtown strip.  
  
Arriving early, as you were wont, you scanned the layout, feeling immediate relief as you noticed there was a large table along a back wall, which was mounted with a cushioned, low-to-the-ground bench. You arranged with the hostess to seat the large party, and allowed yourself a pour of chilled sake as you waited. The music wasn’t too loud, so you pulled out the issue of Duelist Monthly and flipped through it idly. You had already read it from cover to cover, and the fifteenth anniversary article more than a few times, so you settled for browsing the pictures, waxing reminiscent about your time as a duelist. You paused over the sketches of the prototype Duel Disk that KaibaCorp had released for the piece, in awe over how much it had evolved into the version you knew.  
  
You turned the page a few times, allowing yourself to smile at some photos of the Battle City tournament. Though you had progressed a decent amount during that tournament, you knew none of these photos featured you – the glamour shots were of the dueling titans of the time: Mutou Yuugi, who had won the whole thing, freshman upstart duelist Malik Ishtar (who, to your knowledge, hadn’t really shown his face afterward – the scandal of the Ghouls being too much weight to bear, you supposed), and Kaiba Seto himself.  
  
You heard your name and glanced up, waving as you saw some members of the executive team weaving their way to the table. Richard Grant, the company’s chief financial officer, had been a classmate of Justin’s, though to your understanding they had not gotten along well until beginning the company together. Richard’s involvement had been largely thanks to the company’s chief legal officer, his fiancée Jennifer Harris, who slid onto the bench beside you with a smile.  
  
Jennifer pointed at your half full glass of sake, and you waved a hand – _have at it_. As she cheerfully knocked back the remaining liquor in the glass before removing her jacket, Richard seated himself across from her, sliding the open magazine closer to him.  
  
“This him, then?” Richard made eye contact with the arrogant glower of the photograph, raising an eyebrow in consideration.  
  
You _hmmm_ed a confirmation.  
  
“I’ve heard a lot about him, between Jen and Justin,” Richard continued, glancing at the article with some interest. “Guy’s a force.”  
  
The waitress had come back around, bearing a small tray with a large carafe of warm sake and three small ceramic cups. You thanked her, and Jennifer poured for the three of you happily.  
  
After a short toast, you sipped the liquor thoughtfully. “That is probably the best way to describe him. Jen, you know his story, right?”  
  
She slurped her cup down, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder. Already a gorgeous woman, her face glowed in delight as she set the cup down. “Oh yeah. I had a huge crush on him when I was in college, but even aside of what a fox he is, he’s an impressive man.” She laughed abruptly. “I got into corporate law because I had this silly idea that if I represented a dumb enough company that I’d get to meet him one day.”  
  
Not looking up from the article, her fiancé interrupted, “And then you met me, and you’ve never been happier.”  
  
She batted her dark lashes at him. “You betcha, sweetheart.” She winked at you, and you smiled.  
  
“Ah, wonderful! The team’s all here!”  
  
You leaned over Jennifer to greet Justin and his team of developers. You only knew a couple of them, as they by and large kept to themselves: you allowed Dale, a shy man in his forties, a smile in greeting. He met your eyes and nodded, lowering his gaze, shielded by his battered camouflage baseball cap. Before he could settle himself on your other side, Justin slid into the seat, setting his tablet on the table in front of him and flagging the waitress for another round of sake.  
  
“Now before we get started,” Justin announced when everyone held their ceramic cup in a toast, “I wanna let someone in on a little secret.” He turned to you, his eyes apologetic and his smile very much not. He gestured to Richard and Jennifer, continuing, “We’ve had something like this in mind for a couple months, and we wanted to feel it out. You were the latecomer, but I hope you aren’t too worried about being left out.”  
  
You settled your face into a stiff smile, eyes carefully blank. “Certainly not,” you replied, raising your toast somewhat higher, a silent request to get on with it.  
  
Projecting relief, Justin put a hand over his chest. “Word! Super relieved to hear that, ‘cause you’re a really important asset to this project – you’ve gotta lotta insights with your background, and all, and we don’t wanna alienate you before we’ve had a chance to get off the ground!”  
  
“Justin.” Richard tapped the bottom of his glass on the table, managing not to spill his sake.  
  
“Ah, right! Word.” Justin glanced back over at you, his grin slick and indulgent. “What is it they say in Japan?”  
  
“_Kanpai_.”  
  
“Right!” He raised his glass. “Let’s get this show on the road! _Kanpai_!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I super haven’t watched GX or 5DS, and I definitely haven’t watched the new movie, but I read the synopsis on the YGO Wiki and it looks like our boy is still dramatic af and I love it. A lot of plot things from these aren’t going to be used, tbvh. I don’t think it’ll be a problem.
> 
> I had an idea of what I wanted to happen before I posted the first chapter, but I built a rough outline a couple of days afterward. A main plot point for the reader character’s arc will start to pop up here and there. I don’t want to spoil too much, because I intend to lay it all out in just a few more chapters, but I also don’t want to trigger anyone. That said, I’ll update the tags if things develop further beyond what I’ve expected, and I’ll put in notes as well.
> 
> I didn’t expect much of a reaction from the first chapter, but I’m crazy pleased at the support so far! Thank you so much to Dmihailovic, FUTUREanon, Huntraa2139, BeautifulMonsters, thevillageofbree, and Scarletbelle87 for their kudos – they mean a lot to me!

As the night progressed, you learned how far along the planning had actually gotten before the idea had reached you. Jennifer had brought up, supported by a couple of the developers, exactly what needed to be avoided in order to avoid plagiarism accusations – Justin, it seemed, was stuck on the idea of a mobile game in the same fashion as a monstrous predecessor, and it had taken Jennifer weeks of discussions with him and the developers to convince him that their best avenue was to make something similar, but not similar enough that people made comparisons. He still chafed at the idea, but relented, gamely gesturing for another round, prompting a cheer of “_Kanpai!_”  
  
Before the executives lost their focus, Richard tried to clarify what resources they had to work with, and what they needed to reach. From what you could understand, much more of the funding and support would be coming from KaibaCorp’s resources; while this made sense, as KaibaCorp’s pockets were notoriously deep, even today, you still felt a knot of uncertainty in your stomach at hearing exactly how much your group was going to be relying on a partnership you did not even have yet.  
  
Richard’s expression shifted into something resembling supportive understanding, but before he could reassure you, Justin poured you another sake, grabbing his tablet.  
  
“Enough! Nah, we’re all gonna be fine, this is gonna be great. Hey!” Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he seemed stricken by a sudden thought, unlocking the screen of the tablet with his free hand. “Let’s watch some matches! I want you to teach me the rules of this game of yours so I can get a better understanding of what our game needs to look like.”  
  
Knocking back his sake, he pulled up an archive of duel videos. He scrolled through until he found a match that interested him: it wasn’t one that you had been present for as it was after your time, you explained to him, ducking from under his arm, but you remembered the rules well enough that you could commentate.  
  
A few matches passed in this way, and you kept pace with the duelists in the videos, explaining the rules as cards were played. Although it had been such a long time since you had played the game, competitively or not, you felt a heat spread through you as you spoke, getting excited in spite of yourself when a famous match came on.  
  
“Ah! This is the final match of Duelist Kingdom!” you exclaimed, allowing yourself to nudge in closer to Justin to see the tablet’s screen more clearly, reaching across him to fumble with the volume controls. Attention amongst your group had diverted somewhat, but Dale craned his head at your excitement, and Jennifer leaned into your other side to see. “What was recorded, anyway – there’s a huge section of the match that has never been made available to the public. Look! That’s Mutou Yuugi. He was considered the best duelist in the world for a long, long time.”  
  
“Him?” Justin squinted at the screen. “He’s a kid! He’s like the size of my forearm.”  
  
“Sure,” you agreed. “Many of the best duelists were children – the Japanese champion for a while was only fourteen. And Kaiba Seto made his name at around that age. Pegasus Crawford, the inventor – that’s him, with the silver hair – he went undefeated for so long until Mutou came along. This match is really famous for a number of reasons, but it’s popular as well because it’s so mysterious – almost no one knows what happened.”  
  
Justin set the tablet back on the table, reaching for a glass of water. Though he feigned detachment, you felt him watch you from his periphery. “And what about you? When did you play?”  
  
You leaned back against the padded back of the bench, allowing Jennifer to reach across you to grab the tablet. “Oh geeze. I guess I was around that age. Late high school. Battle City was during my gap year.”  
  
Again seeming to be stricken with inspiration, Justin sat up straight. “Oh I know! Let’s see if we can find your matches in that tournament. You did well, right?”  
  
You shrugged a shoulder, watching as Jennifer began to swipe through the archive. “Well enough. I was disqualified just before reaching the finals, so I didn’t rank within the tournament, but I received a letter after I got home that my official rank went up.”  
  
It took a couple of database searches to find any of your handful of matches from that tournament, and you tapped on one absently. It was a quick match, and while you certainly hadn’t played your best, your opponent wasn’t very skilled – rare cards had been a requirement to enter the tournament, and while you had handily qualified, your opponent’s only rare card was Mirror Wall. Though a useful trap card, it was his only strategy, and he floundered when it was removed from the field.  
  
“Whaddya know, you weren’t half bad!” Justin attempted to throw an arm across your shoulders again, but you slid past Jennifer, moving to stand. Unphased, he spread himself across the bench, gesturing toward the screen where a much-younger you stood victorious. “Y’think you could do that again?”  
  
Your head buzzed from the sake, and you shook it gently. “’M not sure,” you answered honestly. “Don’t even have any cards anymore. ‘Scuse me, be right back.” As you weaved through the crowd that had built in the restaurant, you heard him open the video to your next match. Vaguely, you wondered if he would ask you to commentate all of them. You weren’t sure you had the acumen that your younger self had, and certainly not with the amount you had drank.  
  
As you washed your hands, you splashed water on your face, patting yourself back to clarity. You headed back to the table, and you saw that the three were still watching your matches from Battle City – they hadn’t gotten to your final match, and you felt relief loosen a knot in your chest. Though it wasn’t a bad match, by any means, you weren’t sure you were ready to face the loss again.  
  
Your heart skipped unbidden at the memory, and you could almost hear the world around you lower in pitch, the air crackling as it had when that final monster had been summoned. You breathed deeply to calm yourself, sliding back onto the bench next to Jennifer.  
  
“You were good.” Generally uncomfortable around groups of people, Dale usually made intense eye contact for brief periods of time before tipping his head abashedly, letting the brim of his cap hide him. “I don’t know why you didn’t make it.”  
  
“What a shitty thing to say!” Jennifer exclaimed, aghast, causing Dale to look away in embarrassment. She held the tablet firmly in both hands, enamored by the version of you she watched on the screen. “You were so good!” she reassured you.  
  
“Thanks,” you laughed. “I wasn’t that good, the people I cleared out were just worse. These guys must have only just qualified for the tournament, they weren’t A-listers. And winning their cards helped me move along, too,” you admitted.  
  
Justin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So Battle City was a gambling tournament?”  
  
“Well…” You hesitated. The ante rule was a controversial one, as it had seemed like a rare-card-grubbing tactic by Kaiba Seto to many people. This conclusion had seemed odd to you, because within the dueling community he was known for carrying a briefcase filled with cards – if there was a rare card he needed to win, you weren’t sure what it could have been at the time. But as time went on, and the tournament gained media coverage after the fact, you had learned a little bit more of the truth. Given what a convoluted mess the tournament had been when it was running, you could understand how misconceptions could still be hanging in the air, even a decade and a half later.  
  
You shrugged. “Sort of. Rare cards were a requirement to enter, and you had to give up one – or more, a lot of people upped the ante with their opponents to progress faster – card to the winner. There was a gang of poachers, and KaibaCorp’s official statement after Mutou won was that they were after this group.”  
  
“How like him,” Jennifer laughed. Justin raised a brow at the familiarity in her voice, but said nothing, taking another sip of his water as she helped herself to his abandoned sake. “Anything Yuugi did, he wanted credit for doing something bigger.”  
  
By this time, Richard had stopped his conversation about an online game with one of the developers, noticing that his fiancée’s voice had become much louder in the last half hour. He returned to his seat across from her as she giggled to herself, his brow knit.  
  
“Babe.”  
  
She waved a hand at him dismissively, still giggling. “He does that, though! Always needing to be the best, always wanting everyone to think he had this big plan – “  
  
“Babe,” Richard repeated more firmly, putting his hand over hers. She giggled anew, but leaned back against the bench, her eyes drowsy. Richard squeezed her hand once, glancing over at you and Justin apologetically. “That’s my cue.”  
  
Justin flashed him a peace sign. “Get home safe, bro,” he said as Richard bundled Jennifer up in her jacket and frog-marched her out of the restaurant, rubbing her arms. As they cleared the hostess’s booth, Justin crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you with some interest. “So it’s clear Jenny’s got some complicated feelings about the guy, but what do you think?”  
  
You paused to consider for a brief moment. “I think that he has good reason to be the way that he is,” you said slowly, carefully. As a duelist, you had your opinions on him, obviously – everyone in that community did, he was a polarizing figure – but you wanted to try to keep yourself objective if the company was going to be pursuing a business relationship.  
  
“Ahhh, nah, come on now, tell me the truth,” Justin wheedled, nudging your side with his elbow playfully, grinning a slick, knowing smile that was a familiar sight on his face.  
  
“I am. He is a brilliant duelist, a brilliant businessman, and a brilliant inventor,” you asserted, crossing your legs. “Any reputation he might have, in either the business world or the dueling one, is from one of those things being taken for granted or ignored.”  
  
“Yeah, but what do _you_ think of _him_?” There was a glint in Justin’s eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You had seen it once or twice before, and it had made you uncomfortable during those times, as well.  
  
_Sharklike_, you thought, unbidden, and shook your head to clear it. “I respect him. As a businessman and as a duelist. I think he’s earned it.” You weren’t sure what he was trying to bait you into saying, but you held your ground. For everything else that he was or did, you did genuinely feel that Kaiba Seto deserved your respect – anything else from you, you reasoned, would be disingenuous. You had no personal relationship with him, after all.  
  
“Ugghhh!” Justin threw his hands in the air in faux-aggravation, laughing somewhat. The sudden noise drew looks from a nearby table, who turned back to their nightcaps when there seemed to be no apparent danger. From the corner of your eye, you saw that Dale was paying close attention to the conversation. “I just want an honest opinion!”  
  
“And I’m giving it to you. If you want something with a little more splash, you can ask Jen.” Beginning to feel tense, you glanced at your watch pointedly, gripping your discarded blazer and making to stand. “It’s late, I should probably get out of here, too. We have a lot of work to do if we want to pair up with KaibaCorp for this project. And it seems to me like we definitely want that.”  
  
“S’all right,” Justin drawled, tilting his head back to rest on the back of the bench. “When we’re across the table from him, we’ll discover how you feel about the dude. I’ll be able to smell it on you.”  
  
“I’m sure that’s true,” you replied primly, throwing a twenty on the table to help with the tip to mask the disgusted shiver that spread across your shoulders at his comment. “And on _that_ note, I will take my leave.”  
  
“Well you gotta let me take you home,” he insisted, scooting from the bench and beginning to rise.  
  
“Oh, super not necessary.” Immediately on guard, your arms came to cross over your chest. “My car’s not that far, and neither is my apartment. You’re on the complete other side of town.”  
  
The same slick smile began to creep across his face at this, and as he opened his mouth to speak you felt a gentle touch on your elbow. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Dale scuffed the ground with his toe in a way that was impossibly endearing to you at that moment.  
  
“I think my car’s in the same lot. I’ll walk with you.” He glanced at Justin under the brim of his hat, maintaining that same intense eye contact. “That way we both get there safely. You called a car, didn’t you, Justin?”  
  
Unphased, Justin deposited himself back onto the bench with a dramatic palm to his forehead, and he grinned with false abashedness. “So I did! You’re totally right. Thanks for reminding me, better call for a ride, since everyone’s leaving.”  
  
Dale nodded shortly, turning away from him and gently tugging your elbow. “Yeah. Night, man.”  
  
Though you were certain Justin required the last word, you couldn’t hear what he called after you, as the music swelled to its loudest just near the front door and then suddenly you were enveloped in the still of the night outside. Dale set his shoulders against the chill, tucking his hands further in to his pockets; you flashed him an appreciative glance.  
  
“Thank you for walking me to my car.”  
  
Without looking at you, he nodded, not breaking his pace.  
  
Of the men in the company, Dale was the hardest to pin down. Painfully shy, his reputation amongst others in the corporation was a mystery: his fellow developers adored him, as he did wonderful work on the background art for many of the projects the company worked on, and he opened up somewhat around Richard and Jennifer; on the other hand, though, there had been a rumor you had caught wind of during your bi-weekly touch-bases with the company’s social media team. Apparently, one of the girls on the team had an uncomfortable experience with him, though the details of that situation were between him, her, and the HR coordinator who had mediated.  
  
Still, it was clear that he knew what he was doing just moments ago in the restaurant, and you were certain he knew that you were not thanking him simply for walking you to your car.  
  
The couple of blocks to the paid parking lot were quiet, and you spent those minutes in thought. You certainly were not only making an excuse to rebuff Justin when you said a lot of work needed to be done: you intended to gather as much data as you could about the Mobile Game That Would Go Unnamed, as well as about KaibaCorp’s most recent projects, in addition to your own demographics.  
  
“You excited for the trip?”  
  
Your head snapped over when Dale spoke. “Excuse me?”  
  
“The trip. To Japan.”  
  
“I mean.” You brow furrowed. “I suppose? It’s a ways off, though, and there’s still a lot to do before we can even think about you’re looking at me funny.”  
  
And he was. Not known for being terribly expressive, Dale’s eyebrow was comically arched, his head canted in a way that was notably doglike. You suspected what he was going to say before he said it, a pit forming in your gut as the words left his mouth: “You know we’re going soon, right?”  
  
You didn’t know that, and you were certain your face conveyed this information based on the sharp hiss he let out between his front teeth.  
  
“You weren’t told.”  
  
“I wasn’t. And frankly, I don’t want you to tell me what ‘soon’ means right now, I’ll clear that up tomorrow.” You gently rubbed your temple, holding out your other hand in a placating gesture. “Right now, I just want to get some water and some sle – “  
  
“Skype call’s tomorrow.”  
  
“-ep.” A beat. “Wonderful.”  
  
Another beat.  
  
“Good night, Dale.”  
  
He looked uncertain as you dug your keys out of your bag, unlocking the door with your keyfob and briskly turning on your heel toward your car. You couldn’t handle any more news on the subject, and as bad as you felt at being rude, you had to leave it at that; you allowed a brief wave as you pulled out, which he mirrored awkwardly before getting into his car.  
  


* * *

  
A woman with slick hair wearing an angular white suit bowed, gesturing to her left, explaining that with the new KaibaCorp controls and displays, the trains would run more quickly and efficiently than ever before.  
  
“No more being late!” she chirped, her expression a carefully constructed mask of pleasantness. “Thanks to KaibaCorp!”  
  
The company logo flashed across the screen, the digital effect one of white-heat searing into the background, the letters flared dramatically in a way that mimicked the spokesperson’s suit. You had noticed this motif become more and more prominent in KaibaCorp’s marketing materials over the years – from the logo, to the uniforms, even many of the products followed this pattern of simultaneously round and sharp, bright-hot white with cool blue accents. It was clear where the inspiration came from, and you were unnecessarily pleased to see that Kaiba remained true to himself after all this time.  
  
As soon as you had crossed the threshold to your apartment, you shotgunned a pint of water to quench the parch in your throat and to calm your gut, then poured yourself another glass to sip on as you watched the most recent KaibaCorp commercials that you could find. Your Japanese was rusty but still passable, but something that was undeniably clear from the advertisements you were able to translate was that KaibaCorp wasn’t just a gaming company anymore, it was a veritable technological giant.  
  
Over the last decade or so, Kaiba seemed to understand Domino’s niche was Duel Monsters, and had worked appropriately on updates to the Duel Disk to keep the market happy, but his grasp had expanded to Tokyo and even Kyoto within the gaming industry; all the while, his corporation made technological advancements in all areas, from housewares and smart technology to public transit. Entire apartment blocs were built in KaibaCorp’s name. You even saw an article published in a medical journal out of Domino University that you were fairly certain mentioned nanotechnology from KaibaCorp.  
  
The implications of these realizations washed over you in a cold wave. If this was the case, your company was going to be woefully unprepared to offer anything of value to this partnership. If this was the case, you could not see how any interaction with Kaiba Seto would not end with your team being laughed out of the country.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all I’m real excited for the upcoming chapters. I’ve planned out quite a bit, further out than I even intended for the entire fic to be tbvh, and I’m just so excited for the reader character’s arc. So many people are gonna get so much development. I had originally intended for there to be two more scenes in this one, and our first ~interaction~, but it started getting long. But we only have a little bit more world-building before we get into the real meat. 
> 
> I’m building decks as we speak to decide which strategy is gonna be most like our RC – I think I’ve found a good card set for her that isn’t just my old deck. I’m going to experiment with writing styles for the inevitable duels – if everything goes to plan, there will only be two duels over three chapters. I’m not sure what the general sentiment is on those, but I’ll try to make them as organic within the prose as I possibly can. I have an idea that should mimic the way duels are presented in the show, but I’m going to play with it first.
> 
> Thanks to 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, haise_leonheart, starshine_chill, DoraMilaje for your kudos, and thanks to 5_Stirling_Heartstrings and FUTUREanon for this fic’s first comments! All y’all’s support means the world to me!

Predictably, your head was pounding ferociously the next morning when your alarm woke you early, but you rallied determinedly. You washed the lethargy from yourself with a cold shower, taking the time to brew your coffee just right while you reviewed some of the notes that you had made the night previous. Drunk-you was sharp when it mattered, you noticed thankfully, only having to pause to decipher one or two notes on some translations. Drunk-you had even politely provided sober-you links to the videos you had watched, the advertisements for KaibaCorp (and apparently, you noticed with some amusement, some colorful tourist-trap ads for Domino City).  
  
Now that you had the chance to watch the KaibaCorp ads sober, a tense knot formed in your stomach, and the cold wave crashed over you again. What on earth was Justin thinking with this? Obviously, he didn’t know what a monolith KaibaCorp was – it was an arrogant mistake, but at least one that was easily corrected.  
  
You weren’t able to focus at all during your commute, turning off your stereo entirely in favor of the silence and the roar of your thoughts. It was an effort not to simply let the dread to overwhelm you, reminding yourself that all you had to do was talk to him, talk to Jen and Richard, the development team – hopefully you could simply convince them that it was still a good idea, but required _a lot _more planning. Maybe a partnership could be pulled off in a few years, once the company had its feet under it.  
  
You carried your notes and a flash drive pressed tightly against your chest as you made your way to Justin’s office. The door was slightly ajar, as it usually was – he took his “open door policy” more literally than some in that his door was often actually open. Having never needed to approach him about something seriously, you could only hope that he took the figurative side of the phrase seriously as well.  
  
You rapped a knuckle against the door twice, leaning in. “Can I talk to you for a second? Are you busy?”  
  
Leaning back in his seat, feet propped against his desk, he looked distinctly not-busy. You couldn’t blame him, it was first thing in the morning, and you felt a grudging respect for the fact that he was in-office at this hour to begin with – you’d had bosses that wouldn’t have shown their faces until the hour reached double-digits.  
  
“For you? I’ve always got time.” He spread his arms in welcome and ushered you into his office.  
  
You took in a breath and let it out slowly as you pulled the door behind you with a gentle _click_.  
  
“Uh-oh! Closed door meeting, this has gotta be a big deal!” he teased, knitting his fingers behind his head, his sandaled feet remaining on the desk near an open takeaway coffee. The steam spiraled lazily into the air, and you stared at it for a moment to gather your thoughts.  
  
“So,” you started, taking a seat before his desk, tucking your feet underneath. “Last night after I got home, I started watching some videos – “  
  
“S’how I spend my evenings after I’ve imbibed.”  
  
You bridled, brought short by the comment. “Not necessary right now, Justin,” you allowed yourself to scold him. He put up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but before he could say anything you continued, “I watched some of the latest ads for KaibaCorp projects, and we might be in way over our heads by pursuing them right now. The last project that had his name on it was a complete renovation of the Domino City train system with their technology – _all_ of the technology, not just some of it. Hardware, software, firmware, updates, prescheduled maintenance and repair for the next ten years… all of it is KaibaCorp. And that’s not all.”  
  
You set your notes on his desk and fanned them out, placing the flash drive closer to him, near his keyboard, in preparation to present your findings. He glanced at it, raising an eyebrow, but otherwise did not move. “I think they’ve even started breaking into medical technology – and we’re coming to them with a pitch for game that already exists. Justin, I think KaibaCorp might be too big for us.”  
  
He remained still, and you felt heat rising from your chest, up your throat and into your face. If anything, he seemed amused, but his was not the body language of someone who had made a mistake.  
  
“Justin, are you listening?” you pressed, folding your hands in your lap to keep yourself from getting agitated. “We’re a small startup, and they’re a huge name. This isn’t even a ‘bigger fish’ scenario – in this scenario, we are definitely not fish.”  
  
Finally, he swept his feet down, clasping his hands on the desk in front of him gravely. There was an indulgent look on his face, and you knew whatever he was about to say was going to upset you. “Look. I see you, I hear you, and I want you to know, that I’ve got this covered.” He put a hand on his chest in a gesture that you were sure was meant to be moving. “With what I’ve got planned, there is no way KaibaCorp is gonna refuse us.”  
  
He reached for you, placing his hand flat on the farthest end of the desk, and your head jerked to follow the movement. If your anxiety weren’t making you nauseated, it would be comical. “I want you to trust me.”  
  
You stared at his hand, working very hard to keep the horror form your face as a realization dawned on you: it wasn’t that he didn’t know, it was that he didn’t care. You jerked your gaze sharply from his pleading hand to his face. “Justin…” You paused, aware that you needed to keep your words guarded. “I’m saying I don’t think it’s a good idea. I just think we shouldn’t go in unprepared.”  
  
He drew back, raising his hands in the same gesture of surrender. “Dude, and I agree. But I’ve got a plan, and I think we’re gonna be fine.”  
  


* * *

  
“I’m sorry, he has a _what_.”  
  
You chewed your lip, crossing, then uncrossing, then recrossing your legs again. Your meeting with Justin had left you feeling more anxious than ever, so you had gathered your notes and the flash drive and left in dumb silence. You allowed yourself a moment at your desk to collect yourself, to give the office a little time to settle in for the day; promptly at nine AM, you shot to your feet and made your way to Richard’s office.  
  
He waved you in at your knock, gesturing to take a seat before pointing to his earpiece, motioning that he would be just a second. There was little you could gather from his side of the conversation, but the paranoid part of you assumed he was making travel arrangements.  
  
_Not this soon_, you shook your head sharply. If the preliminary meeting hadn’t even occurred – “_Skype call’s tomorrow.”_ – then certainly Richard would never allow for that kind of risk. Based on his hesitance, and the little snippets you could piece together, it still had something to do with the project, but only vaguely – you wondered with a sense of dread whether he was speaking with a journalist. That didn’t seem likely either, but your mind raced with as many worst-case scenarios as it could come up with.  
  
Finally, he ended the call, and fixed you with an apologetic glance. “Sorry. IT.” He did not elaborate further.  
  
Without waiting to be prompted, you launched into your research and discovery from the night before, handing him the flash drive, which he plugged into his computer immediately, dragging your notes closer to glance over them.  
  
He held up a hand for you to be silent, and the longer he watched the deeper his brow furrowed. After the first commercial – for a fully immersive virtual reality game system – he paused the videos and tapped out a message on his phone, setting it faceup on his desk. It buzzed once in reply, and within moments Jennifer swept into the office and closed the door behind her. She made her way immediately behind the desk and placed a hand on the back of Richard’s chair, leaning over his shoulder to watch the next commercial. When it ended, he glanced up at her, and they shared a matching look, eyebrows raised.  
  
“So you brought this to Justin and he said he had a _plan_?” Jennifer scooted to half-sit on the desk, twisting to face you, arms crossed firmly.  
  
You nodded. “He wouldn’t elaborate beyond that. He simply told me that I was being heard, but that he had it figured out.”  
  
A low whistle came from Jennifer’s lips. “’_Figured out_’ may be a little blasé.”  
  
Morbidly, you felt a sense of relief – you weren’t the only one that had been left in the dark on this tragedy of a situation, to be sure, and you reminded yourself that it was still early enough to be fixed, or avoided entirely.  
  
Having just finished the advertisement for the train system renovations, Richard picked up one of the sheets of paper you had scribbled some notes on. His eyes flicked across the page, expression unreadable, until he reached a certain part. He flashed the paper toward you, gesturing to a passage. “What does this mean?”  
  
You reached for the sheet, reading the paragraph he indicated. It was your rough translation of the medical paper from Domino University. “I think this is from a medical article,” you told him, handing back the sheet. “KaibaCorp’s name is definitely mentioned, and the seal there is from the local university – which is known for its technology. The word for ‘blood’ is used a lot, here,” you pointed, “and katakana – those are used for foreign words. I’m pretty sure it’s about KaibaCorp nanotechnology.”  
  
Jennifer’s brows shot up. “Shit,” she whispered, uncrossing her arms to brace against the desk. She shot a glance at her fiancé, who had stilled completely. “Honey?”  
  
Gently, Richard handed you back your flash drive. “I’m gonna keep these,” he indicated the notes you had taken, standing and moving around the desk. Once he reached the door, he held it open for you and Jennifer. “If you please,” he said, sweeping his arm in a motion that indicated it was time to leave.  
  
The door shut and locked behind you, Richard turned stiffly on his heel and stalked down the hall. His expression was unreadable, but his body language could not be mistaken. He turned a corner out of sight for the briefest second, but within a moment you heard a door slam, and you knew that he had reached Justin’s office.  
  
There wasn’t a moment’s pause between the slamming of the door and the beginning of the yelling, and you were entirely taken aback: Richard was not one to be so taken with emotion. It wasn’t a secret within the company that he and Justin chafed against each other, but by and large they had been successful within the business – and with Jennifer as a mediating presence, they could even have been accused of getting along every so often. But the cold fury that radiated from Richard as he left his office, that emanated from every line of his body as he moved down the hallway…  
  
You felt a pressure release from your shoulders, but you had never seen someone so composed be so mad.  
  
“Ahh,” Jennifer murmured gently, glancing sidelong at you. “I better…” she trailed off, jogging after her fiancé. You heard the soft _click_ of the door open and close again.  
  
It would have been a reasonable assumption to believe that the yelling would stop once Jennifer entered the fray, but it certainly did not. You heard brief murmurs, a deep one from Justin and a softer one that must have been from Jen, but these were only brief punctuations for Richard’s rage.  
  
Awkwardly, you felt rooted to your spot, vaguely aware that a few other employees were beginning to gather. You knew, as a senior in your department, that you should rally everyone to focus, to get back to their tasks, and you made a haphazard attempt to do so, even turning back toward your office hesitantly, only to stop short when the door opened abruptly with a rush of air like a gasp.  
  
“You’d better fucking know what you’re doing, that’s the last I’m going to say.” Richard’s tone brooked no argument, and he swept back to his office and shut the door without so much as a glance back.  
  
The expression on Jennifer’s face was pained as she watched his closed door for a moment, though it wasn’t clear until she spoke that it was not directed at her fiancé. “I’m really disappointed in you Justin.” Her tone was soft, and you felt your chest tighten.  
  
Once again, in the same pose he had taken earlier with you, Justin held a hand against his chest, a visage of sincerity. “I _promise_ you, I’ve _got_ this. You’ll see, we’ve got the Skype call with them at end of day, and I’ll show you guys. I _got_ this.”  
  
“I hope you do.” She met your eye, brow knit, before going back to her office.  
  
Seeming to notice you for the first time, Justin’s palm against his chest became a fist, and he beat it against his chest once for emphasis. “I’ve _got_ this,” he reassured you, moving the hand to a salute before disappearing back into his office.  
  


* * *

  
At around six PM, you and the same team from the night before began to wander one by one into the conference room. The speaker sat ominous and spiderlike in the center of the table, and the projector showed that the Skype program had been pulled up and was displaying a gentle screensaver. You took a seat, placing a notebook in front of you, fidgeting with your pen. It wasn’t simply the rest of the day that had you anxious, there was something that didn’t feel right about the meeting.  
  
In a similar pattern to the dinner-and-drinks meeting from the night previous, it was Richard and Jen who arrived first, and they seated themselves opposite you, closest to the speaker. Richard’s shoulders still looked stiff, and Jennifer held herself with a cautious steel as she pored over several thick sheafs of paper while she waited for the meeting to begin.  
  
Eventually, the game developers began to file in, many of them still bedraggled and exhausted. Dale came in the middle of the pack, listening intently to a conversation two other developers were having about textures. He broke in occasionally, a quiet interjection, but otherwise seemed content to observe. Trailing along behind the final group was a young woman named Rebecca, who worked in your department as a junior associate; she had been enlisted to be the translator for your group, a job she had eagerly hopped on as she also had a history in Duel Monsters; “_Once upon a time_,” she had laughed.  
  
Justin arrived last, bustling into the room and depositing his jacket on the chair at the end of the table. “Sorry I’m late, guys, had a meeting with a man about a –  
  
“Justin.”  
  
“Right, right, sorry, don’t worry where I was!” He laughed it off, kicking his feet onto the table. “Right, we haven’t even started? That’s weird.” He glanced at his watch, scratching the side of his head, seemingly oblivious to the irony of calling out someone else’s lateness. “I’d have expected them to be, like, on time?”  
  
You felt more than saw the jolt that coursed through Richard’s spine, and wondered vaguely how many times today he was going to be pushed into yelling. Without looking up, Jennifer tapped her pen twice against his arm, and he clenched the hand into a fist but remained silent, choosing instead to flip open one of the folders he carried with him, skimming over the reports inside.  
  
Eventually, 6:30 rolled around, and then 7, and the Skype meeting remained on the same placid screensaver. At varying points, a couple of the developers had taken it upon themselves to double check the Skype program, restarting it and the computer, making sure they call was connected to the right meeting room, double-checking the time of the calendar invitation. All seemed fine, they reported.  
  
At 7:30 you felt the air crackle and heard the soft _clack_ as Richard put his phone down on the table.  
  
“Justin.”  
  
He glanced over from his position, a copy of the one he had taken that morning, with his feet languidly on the table and his head cushioned by the net of his hands. “Hm? What’s up, bud?”  
  
“What time was the meeting?”  
  
Justin had the grace to look curious, checking his watch one more time. “Was supposed to be at six, I’m not really sure what – “  
  
“Whose six, Justin.”  
  
The room fell silent and gradually slowed to absolute stillness. You felt the blood drain from your face and a lump tighten in your throat, glancing around the table to see the reactions dawn on everyone’s faces. It was like watching a movie go from technicolor to greyscale, and time seemed to slow as the revelation made its way around the room, though no one seemed willing to break the tension.  
  
Finally, there was another, louder _clack_ as Jennifer slammed her pen onto the table. “You’ve _got_ to be kidding me. Justin, did you not check the date and timezone of the meeting? For an international teleconference?”  
  
Richard had already stood, checking his watch and the calendar on his phone to do a quick calculation in his head, grabbing the remote control for the projector to turn it off. “We haven’t missed the meeting, by the grace of god – it hasn’t happened yet. Everyone be back in this room by one AM. I recommend getting a quick sleep in before you come – I know meetings like this are hard, but this is too important to fuck up by falling asleep.” Without looking at anyone, he grabbed his folders and pen and strode from the room; the door bounced behind him, not quite a slam. Jennifer trailed behind him, back straight, shaking her head.  
  
As everyone else rose to leave, Justin laughed abashedly. “Easy mistake to make! Anyone could have done it,” he defended himself in between chuckles.  
  
You weren’t sure what to make of his reaction, if he was laughing out of genuine embarrassment, or if he truly did find the situation was funny. You opted not to dwell on it, grabbing your notebook and pen and following the group out.  
  
From behind you, halfway out of the door, you heard one of the developers mutter, “But they didn’t,” to which someone else responded with a snort. You ignored the urge to loiter and listen to what the team of developers had to say, though you were certain it would be juicy, instead heading back to your office to ensure everything was where it needed to be before making your way to your car. You intended to follow Richard’s advice to get in a nap and a snack, possibly a shower, wanting to be as sharp as possible for the meeting, not simply because of the time.  
  
When you arrived back at your apartment, you were determined to do only those things, indulging in a simple supper of a bowl of cereal and curling up on the couch to watch a nature documentary. Your eye wandered occasionally to the notepad poking out of your bag, and you doggedly dragged your attention back to a soothing voice describing the hierarchy within a termite colony. You knew that if you allowed it, you would begin to flip through more notes on KaibaCorp that you had begun to take throughout the day as you gathered your numbers, which would agitate you and you would not be able to get a wink of sleep, not to mention that you would heighten your anxiety before the meeting.  
  
Still, you wondered what direction this meeting could possibly go in. Jen and Richard had seemed appeased, if only barely, and seemed willing to ride it out; you wished you had that confidence in the endeavor. You reminded yourself that you trusted their judgement, though, and the thought calmed you enough that you felt yourself drift off.  
  
An alarm woke you at half-past-eleven, and you took the time to fix yourself another quick meal, a bagel this time, and to shower. You vaguely considered taking advantage of the late hour of the meeting – usually if there were a midnight meeting of any kind, the dress code was firmly of the pajama variety, with even Richard taking advantage of the implication of casualness – but opted against it. This was an important meeting, and it needed to be taken seriously. You kept your makeup discrete made sure your hair was neat, donning an understated cashmere sweater with your slacks.  
  
You strode into the lobby at half-past-midnight, flashing your badge to the overnight security at reception. You couldn’t for the life of you recall his name, but he smiled kindly at you and buzzed you past the turnstiles, waving pleasantly and remarking upon the late hour. Awkwardly, you waved back but remained silent as you mounted the stairs to your floor.  
  
When you arrived, you found that you were not the first this time, Jen and Dale seated at the conference table. Dale was typing something into his laptop while Jen seemed to be detailing a list of what-not-to-do’s for him; he nodded dutifully and turned his laptop toward her, a graphic design program open to a background he was working on.  
  
“Oh that’s wonderful, Dale, perfect, just like that,” Jen tapped the top of the screen with her pen, and Dale withdrew the computer, looking blandly pleased. They both glanced up when you entered the room and took the same seat you had occupied earlier. “Morning. Dick’s making coffee.”  
  
“How sweet of him.” You had a restful nap, but your circadian rhythms were off; until she had mentioned coffee, you thought you would be fine, but as Richard came into the conference room with two mugs and the scent hit your nostrils, you felt the infancy of a headache behind one eye.  
  
“Black, one sugar,” he said, handing a mug to Jen, who accepted with a look you weren’t sure was appropriate for the environment, “and two creams, no sugar.” He proffered the other to Dale, who held up a hand to decline, pointing at you instead. Richard shrugged a shoulder once, and placed the mug in front of you.  
  
You blinked in mild surprise. “You sure you don’t want it?” you asked, your hand already coming to curl around the mug. It was difficult to say no; it was even the way you took it, and it smelled so inviting.  
  
Dale shifted in his seat and did not look up from the screen of his laptop, tipping his head so that the brim of his hat concealed his eyes. “Take mine straight,” he said simply, closing the laptop with a decisive _snap_ before rising to follow Richard into the kitchenette.  
  
Too pleased to have the warm mug in hand, you didn’t notice Jen’s pointed, “Oho.”  
  
Once again in waves, the remainder of the team poured into the conference room, some making a beeline for the kitchenette, where a small semi-circle formed around Richard and Dale, who had inadvertently become the baristas for everyone who wanted coffee. They took it in stride, and finally with everyone seated, they emerged as well, both holding steaming mugs.  
  
As was his wont, Justin arrived last, holding a takeaway coffee that you were fairly certain was from the same stand he had purchased from the previous morning. “Evening everybody! Thanks for coming back after my super-blunder. Let’s get everything pulled up. Everyone’s got their talking points, yeah? Rebecca Rockstar, how you feeling?”  
  
She flashed him a thumbs up. At her age, you supposed all she needed was to decide she wanted to be awake – she looked as bright as ever, the fire in her eyes not remotely dimmed by the hour. She had seated herself close to Richard, nearest the speaker.  
  
Justin clapped and rubbed his hands together, doffing the jacket that hung from his shoulders. “Wonderful. Quick brief before we get them on the line: to my understanding, they’re going to be the president and VP of the gaming division. Got the names of, hang on – “ he rifled in his briefcase, tugging out a sheet that had been ripped from a steno-pad, “ – Date Io and Kitagawa Akihisa. Didn’t get their translator’s name and – what’s funny?”  
  
As soon as he had grabbed the note from his case, Rebecca had begun to giggle; he had pronounced the former’s name as the English words ‘_date_’ and ‘_yo_’. You kept your face stony, tapping a finger against the mug.  
  
“You don’t say it like _that_,” Rebecca chided, correcting him as though she were speaking to a child. “Dah-teh Ee-oh.” She rolled her eyes, grinning and flipping her hair over her shoulder before giggling once more. “Geeze, Justin.”  
  
Justin, for his part, accepted the correction seriously, nodding gravely and committing the sounds to memory, his lips moving slightly as he sounded it out to himself. There were, apparently, some things he knew were important – for all his other faults, he was never a man to get a person’s name wrong. “Word, got it. Now, like I was saying, I didn’t get their translator’s name – if they’re even gonna have one, but that’s what you’re here for.” He leveled a pair of finger-guns at Rebecca, who fired back, winking.  
  
“So, gameplan is, we’re just gonna level what we’ve got, we’re gonna shoot the pitch, and we’re gonna bag this bi – “  
  
“Justin.”  
  
The screen had lit up, and the light atop the webcam on the projector flashed.  
  
“Word! Showtime, boys and girls!”  
  
Time seemed to slow as the screen went black for the briefest moment, then flashed once, twice, and then suddenly was full of a pristine, white-decorated conference room. Seated at a sleek, long table were a neat-looking middle-aged woman, a tired-looking young man, and an eager young woman in an expensive suit. They waited until they were certain the call was connected, then looked into their camera with some interest at the group on the screen before them.  
  
The eager young woman waved, and chirped a greeting, launching with some feeling into an introduction, pausing when she was done and turning to the other woman. Dispassionately, the middle-aged woman held up a hand, gestured at the young woman, and began to translate:  
  
“Hello everyone,” she said, her tone even and polite, conveying nothing of the enthusiasm of the other woman. “My name is Date Io, I am the president of Kaiba Corp’s virtual game division. This is my partner, Kitagawa Akihisa – “ here, displaying a working understanding of English that you expected all three of them had in equal measure, Kitagawa raised his palm to face the camera in greeting, “ and we are so pleased to meet you.”  
  
Justin hesitated. He was standing in what you were certain he believed to be a powerful stance, leaning into the table with both hands tented to hold his weight – it was clear he wanted to assert dominance, and you weren’t sure what was taking him so aback. His brow furrowed slightly as he mouthed something to himself.  
  
The three in Domino glanced at each other, mirroring expressions of concern. Date spoke again, and the translator interpreted: “Is everything all right? Can you hear us?”  
  
Jennifer glanced up from her notepad, made meaningful eye contact with Richard and rolled her eyes subtly before shifting her body to face the display fully. “Yes, hello!” she called, Rebecca trailing after her smoothly. “Apologies, we can hear you. Good evening! My name is Jennifer Harris, I am the chief legal officer of Third Star Games.” She gestured across the table at her fiancé, “This is Richard Grant, he is the chief financial officer, and at the head of the table is Justin Carriger, our chief executive officer.”  
  
Date waited patiently for Rebecca to finish, a polite smile on her face. “Oh my!” she exclaimed through the translator. “So many important people in attendance!” She laughed once, brightly. “I am sorry Kaiba-_sama_ could not be present – he has other things that require his attention.”  
  
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shift, and glanced over to see Justin’s hands ball into fists on the table. From the look on his face, it was clear that he was expecting Kaiba to be here for this; you wondered, with a small degree of alarm, how offended he was, and whether there was a discrete way to get his attention.  
  
“It’s no problem,” Richard spoke up before Justin had the chance to, his posture eminently calm, a stark contrast to the tension in Justin’s shoulders as the latter finally took his seat. “Each of us here is present because we are all bringing something personally to the project.”  
  
“We couldn’t leave anyone out,” Jen added with a laugh that was patently false.  
  
Date had that same polite smile on her face as Rebecca translated. She nodded once, her expression not changing from its mask. Finally, she spoke for herself: “What wonderful spirit! You might say that everyone there has their heart in the cards!”  
  
This drew a snort and a smirk from Kitagawa. The middle-aged translator pressed her fingers against her smile courteously, glancing at Date from the corner of her eye. You glanced across the table at Rebecca, who also caught the reference; by the expression on her face, you could tell that she couldn’t decipher whether the comment was in earnest or meant to mock you any more than you could.  
  
Kitagawa said something abrupt, and the translator regained her composure: “Let’s begin. We understand the idea you wish to work together with KaibaCorp on.”  
  
Jen opened one of the files in front of her, slipping a pair of delicate glasses onto her nose. “Yes, I emailed over our proposal,” she said. “We’re still working out some of the rights with Industrial Illusions – I will be visiting their home office later this week, though we understand KaibaCorp has a continuous right to the intellectual property for the sake of Solid Vision. Meanwhile, I’ve been working with our team of developers, and we’ve started creating some mock-ups of the environment, which we have some samples of to show you.”  
  
Only barely allowing Rebecca the chance to finish, Richard picked up where Jennifer left off. “And I’ve already sent over some projections for you, overhead and the like. I’ve partnered with our IT and our head developer, and we’ve got some dates and numbers for you – I’m not sure if you’ve received them?”  
  
“Oh yes,” Date said politely through the interpreter, “We’ve received them. The attention to detail is most satisfactory.”  
  
Once again, you saw Justin shift from the corner of your eye, glancing over subtly to see him tapping his pen against the table.  
  
Thankfully, he remained silent through whatever was on his mind, allowing Jennifer and Richard control over the meeting – there followed a series of exchanges on proposed costs, proposed storylines and game mechanics, and proposed timeframes. The KaibaCorp team listened to all of it, Date nodding occasionally, the same smile never leaving her face. At one point, Dale stood to speak, emailing over the graphic he had been working on when you arrived – Date and Kitagawa looked at it perfunctorily, Date raising her eyebrows, and made a show of enthusiasm, clapping her hands daintily.  
  
Eventually, you were called on to present the figures Justin had asked you to gather the week previous: the reception of the game you were hoping to imitate and how well its popularity maintained over time, activity reports and health statistics from middle- and high-school aged children and young adults from the before and after time-periods, and finally, begrudgingly, a comparison of Duel Monsters’ popularity in various cities across the US from its peak to current day.  
  
All the while, the KaibaCorp representatives listened, stonefaced in their courtesy, the translator a cold dichotomy to Rebecca’s energy. Every so often, they would ask a single question, seemingly pointed, seeking a specific answer, but without a follow-up; upon hearing the answers, they would glance at each other, but say nothing.  
  
_Have you all played Duel Monsters? Have any of you any children? When was the last time one of you played a virtual reality game? _Etcetera.  
  
It went on in this way for an hour or so, Justin having completely devolved to doodling absently in his day-planner; many of the developers lost heart as well. Finally, Date said something sharp to the translator, who lowered her head in affirmation, and she and Kitagawa held a brief exchange. It only lasted a couple sentences, but the discomfort it caused in the room was palpable: Dale shifted in his seat; Rebecca leaned forward, her brow furrowed in an expression you couldn’t quite decipher; Richard and Jen shared a look, Jen raising an eyebrow and Richard responding by lifting and lowering one shoulder.  
  
You hadn’t done any business with the Japanese before, and you knew that each culture had their own way of building these sorts of professional relationships, but you got the distinct feeling that they were toying with you. You had the same sense of dread in the pit of your stomach that you had had the entire previous twenty-four hours, and you felt it spread its cold across your lap.  
  
Kitagawa leaned an arm against the sleek white table, tilting his head. He spoke in a low tone, and you couldn’t catch what he was saying. Based on Rebecca’s expression, she couldn’t either, but whatever it was caused Date to sigh softly.  
  
“Thank you very much, everyone,” she said, the very picture of vapid courtesy once more, holding a hand up to quiet the translator, who kept her head down. “We have been given very much to think about. We will contact you in – “ she asked a quick question to Kitagawa, who answered swiftly with a glance at his watch, “ – we will contact you by email in two working days. Please accept our gratitude for this meeting.”  
  
The three of them stood and bowed shortly.  
  
The abrupt ending jolted Justin back to life, and he stood, bowing in response, clasping his fists in front of his chest. You groaned quietly at the faux-pas, but he affixed his face with a sincere, pleasant expression. “Cool, can’t wait to hear from you guys. Thanks so much for meeting with us, we really look forward to hearing – “  
  
“Justin.”  
  
The screen had gone black.  
  
A silence settled over the room in a heavy blanket as everyone worked through the meeting. Many of the developers looked as though they were in a daze, and rose from the table one by one, some leaving without a word, others announcing – too loudly – that they would be going to their offices to work for a bit.  
  
As the team began to file out of the room, Justin turned to you, Jen and Richard finally standing. His face had a strange expression on it, clearly pleased but something else as well; nevertheless he spread his arms wide, flashing two thumbs up.  
  
“Well, I think that went well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are at all interested, I've created a Tumblr to share my creative process, planning, soundtrack, memes et al. I may even do a giveaway if there's interest down the road. Give [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com/) a follow to see what's up!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mild panic attack. Also cw, I’m more liberal with language in some scenes. Our boy Richard gets _mad_.
> 
> Ahhhhh, there’s been such a jump in attention this fic is getting, between the last chapter and the one before it. You guys are so awesome! Thanks so much to sakuchwan and all of the guests that have left kudos, and thanks to Scarletbelle87, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, sakuchwan, and haise_leonhart for chatting with me in the comments! Y’all are everything.

True to her word, Date sent an email to department heads promptly at the end of the second business day; it was a bland, canned response email with a fancy letterhead and a body of fluff. Still, it indicated that the meeting had gone well, much to Justin’s delight. The receipt of the email made him as close to insufferable as a person could be, as he was the kind of person who was unafraid to say he told you so.  
  
Due to the success of the teleconference, the office kicked into high gear, and tensions ramped after receiving the email. Richard and Jen kept to their respective offices, and the only time they could not be found in their own office was when they were taking a brief meal in the other’s office while the other worked. A true power couple, they were the first ones in the office in the morning, and the last to leave. You felt a pang as you realized they had no time to simply be together with each other.  
  
For your part, you remained uncomfortable with the project, despite the fact that KaibaCorp thusfar seemed unbothered by the apparent disparity. For all your efforts to throw yourself into your work, you were distracted; there was something wrong, and it bothered you.  
  
As you were the senior marketing representative that had been privy to the meeting, your department head had redistributed your work load to a recently promoted junior associate: instead of supervising the engagement on the company’s social media presence and collecting new data to share with content managers in other departments, you now took to making contact with a few gaming periodicals in Japan and America, as well as researching Industrial Illusions with Jennifer, who visited their headquarters in San Francisco to work out an agreement within days after receiving the email from Date.  
  
Between your own research, you met with Dale and his team. During the early stages, you discussed the actual composition of the monsters, and Jen sent over a compilation from Industrial Illusions that she had been given. You stressed the importance of a number of the cards, the iconography bordering on legendary; it was imperative, you told them, that these select monsters remain recognizable. Dale clicked through the gallery, stopping briefly on a few slides to examine them, and assured you sincerely that his team would make it so.  
  
Watching the developers brainstorm, and finally execute, was an incredible experience, and you quickly felt yourself becoming immersed in the world they were beginning to create. Even during the first couple of days during that week, they had brief tableside discussions that went quickly to storyboards. By the end of the week, they had created rough digital renderings.  
  
Following one of these meetings, you exited the stairwell and began to make your way back to your office for a quick snack before your next meeting. As you turned the corner, you began to slow your pace, coming short of your door and canting your head.  
  
Your door was open, and something was moving inside.  
  
You took a hesitant step forward, then another, pushing the door fully open gently and peering in. Your breath left your lungs in a huff at the anticlimax, and you strode fully into your office, depositing your folders onto your desk.  
  
“You can always send me a calendar invite to let me know you’re coming,” you said testily, seating yourself at your desk.  
  
Justin grinned at you, the book in his hand snapping shut, and he gently slid it back into its place. “I could, but we’re both here now.”  
  
“Your timing is impeccable. How can I help you?” You tried very hard not to be short with him, and from the quizzical, almost doglike smile on his face as he seated himself, you were not succeeding.  
  
“Actually just had a couple of questions for you.”  
  
“Shoot.”  
  
Justin threaded his fingers, catching his knee as he crossed his legs. “Well. First off, how long you been with us?”  
  
You started in confusion, drawing a blank at the question, the sheet of paper in your hand drifting to meet its fellows as your grip loosened. “I’m sorry?"  
  
Justin gestured, pointing a single finger downward. “Here. How long have you been here?”  
  
“I – don’t know? About six or seven months?” You paused to do a quick calculation. “My mother’s birthday was a month after I started, so yeah, that sounds right. Seven months next week. Why?”  
  
If he had any intention of answering your question, he did not show it. “Word. Happy birthday, mom,” he said instead, meaning it. “And what do you do here?”  
  
Was this a joke? “I’m sorry? What are you – “  
  
“Like your main duties.”  
  
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “Plenty,” you snapped indignantly. You weren’t sure what was happening, but it felt strangely like being chastised, and though you weren’t certain you deserved to be addressed for any sort of failure to deliver, if there was a reason for this third-degree you would prefer it to be made plain.  
  
Holding up both hands defensively, Justin laughed. The sun filtered through the blinds and lit his profile; from this angle, he could pass for charming. “Don’t feel like you’re being punished, just having a conversation.”  
  
If it was just a conversation, it was a strange one. You frowned, not in the least bit mollified, but took him at his word, answering him stiffly. You detailed for him a list of your responsibilities in brief, emphasizing that you focused on the digital platforms like social media, and that you specialized in foresight, big picture ideas.  
  
“It’s almost as if you didn’t even read my letter of recommendation,” you quipped, your tone all bitterness.  
  
The same slick grin settled on his features, and the setting sun cast a strange light in his eyes. “Oh no, I definitely read it. ‘Formidable insight’, I think it said.”  
  
The heat returned to your cheeks; you hadn’t even read your recommendation letter, so you couldn’t contradict him even if you thought he was making it up. “Does it?” you replied mildly.  
  
Justin smiled indulgently, and continued to ask you questions: _Tell me about the team you oversee. What were our sentiment numbers from the last three quarters?_ _Can you tell me a little bit about why? _You very nearly lost your temper at _Tell me about the project you’re working on now_, but outlined for him, somewhat tersely, what you had been working on, and with whom, over the last two weeks.  
  
He laughed again and leaned forward, settling his weight in his elbows on his knees, keeping his hands clasped. “Now tell me what you think of this partnership.”  
  
You hesitated, busying yourself with one of the sketches a developer had provided you to buy yourself a moment. You weren’t sure how to answer the question other than honestly, which you had already tried the week prior, and it was clear how your opinion had been regarded at that time. Your mouth set in a line, and you crossed your legs. “I think it’s ambitious – “  
  
“Overambitious.”  
  
“ – and I think it’s risky – “  
  
“Dangerous.”  
  
“ – but I think that if we all continue working as hard as we have been, and we as a group take this all very seriously, that we can accomplish a strong and,” your throat almost stuck on the words, “mutually beneficial partnership with KaibaCorp.”  
  
Justin erupted into laughter again, this time throaty and full, tossing his head back and bracing his palm on his breast. “_’As a group’_! Well said! Word! You didn’t even have time to practice that, you did so good!” The glint in his eye was genuine, but his smile was the same as ever, and you remained unsure.  
  
Something about this meeting made you uncomfortable, and you weren’t able to put your finger on it. The feeling of being scolded had shifted into something nebulous, and now felt vaguely like you were being mocked. You knew for certain, though, that you did not like the way that he was looking at you. You kept silent, not meeting his eyes.  
  
This scarcely seemed to matter, and he rose to his feet, continuing to regard you with interest. “Right, awesome – that was a good talk. Thanks for your time,” he called over his shoulder, flashing you a peace sign as he exited the office leaving you alone with the waves of warm frustration that fell from your shoulders.  
  
_What on earth…?  
  
_

* * *

_  
_Exactly one week after Date had sent out the email, another had found its way into the inboxes of the executives.  
  
As she usually was, Jennifer had been first in the office that day, dropping off an extra takeaway coffee to the overnight security guard before she made her way to the elevators to legal’s floor. Like Richard, she had two offices, one located nearby Justin’s and her fiancé’s, and the other located within her own department. Most of the time, she kept herself at home in the office nearest the other executives; it was simply more convenient that way, to be within reach. But from the hours of four to eight, when she insisted that Richard stay in bed for a couple more hours of sleep, she nestled into a cozy place within the legal department to get the meat of her work done.  
  
As she rode the elevator, she had scrolled through her mailbox on her phone idly, presorting and categorizing everything that had made it past her inbox’s stringent set of rules. She deposited her purse into its home in the armchair by her office door, kicked off her pumps in favor of a pair of slipper socks she kept in her desk, and tucked herself into her chair.  
  
These hours before the office came to life she had begun to reserve for this pipe dream of Justin’s, and she wanted to ensure the time was segmented properly. Ideally, she would have liked to have knocked out the contracts she had promised to fax back to Industrial Illusions by six; there wasn’t anything of note to be wary of that she had noticed, and it was the first major hurdle cleared. And from six to eight, she wanted to make sure she read through her teams briefings on their work with marketing and the developers.  
  
_This is too big a meal to shit on_, as Justin liked to phrase it. Though she wouldn’t have phrased it quite that way now that she was a bonafide adult, she agreed with the sentiment, and wanted to ensure everything ran as smoothly as it possibly could.  
  
While her desktop booted, she gathered a few files and spread them methodically over the smooth wood of her desk, continuing to scroll through her mailbox on her phone with one hand. It appeared to a lot of license renewal, and some reminders of changing labor laws – she tapped into one idly, satisfied that the appropriate posters had been hung in the appropriate public spaces of the building, and archived it in the appropriate folder. She glanced idly at her takeaway coffee, already half empty, and, not for the first time this morning, wished there were some bourbon in it.  
  
She neared the end of her unsorted mail as the computer came to life, humming a warm, welcoming tune as she typed in her pin with her free hand; immediately, her mailbox sprang to life on the screen, and she pressed the button to lock her phone’s screen, moving that hand to her mouse to finish her mail sorting. As her eyes caught the screen, Jennifer froze on an email that remained unread. After a brief moment of hesitation, she clicked on it.  
  
She read it again, breathing out a soft, “Shit,” when she finished.  
  
Her hand went back to her phone with a swiftness. “Honey,” she greeted. “Get here now. We got him.”  
  


* * *

  
You had received the call from Richard at half past four in the morning, groggily rolling over and smacking your phone, mistaking the ringing for your alarm. When it did not cease, buzzing insistently, you reached a hand out from under the covers and tapped the _answer_ button, balancing the phone on your ear.  
  
Your chest gave a slight twinge of pain, and you ignored it, as you usually did. “’Lo?”  
  
“Need you in for a meeting in thirty.”  
  
Your brow furrowed, and your chest twinged again as you forced yourself to sit up. “Thirty minutes? Why so soon? What time is it, even?”  
  
“Thirty minutes,” Richard confirmed. He sounded rushed, like he was only just putting himself together as well. “I don’t care if you drag yourself here in pajamas, honestly – bring something with you to change into, though.” There was a rustling sound as he grunted softly, followed by a gentle _thump_. “We got an email.”  
  
You froze, the twinge becoming tighter in your chest, and you deliberately drew in a breath. “An email,” you repeated weakly, slowly pushing the blanket from your legs and swinging them off the edge of the bed to stand as realization settled on you.  
  
“An email. Thirty minutes,” he repeated, and the line beeped after him as he hung up.  
  
So you threw yourself together, taking Richard’s advice to tuck a nicer outfit into a bag and simply throwing a pullover on top of what you wore to bed, tugging some socks and sneakers onto your feet. You splashed water on your face, brushed your teeth, and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator before booking it out the door.  
  
Though traffic was not normally bad at this time of morning, you crossed the threshold of the conference room with a scant five minutes to spare, greeted by a chorus of groggy mumbles and Justin’s hand cheerfully rubbing your back.  
  
“Glad you made it! We’d have waited, obviously, but it’d’ve been weird,” he laughed, depositing himself into his seat at the head of the table. “All righty, so I’m sure we’re confused as to why we’re here – “  
  
“We’re not,” Dale’s voice said from beneath the pillow of his crossed arms on the table, and he adjusted his head so that it rested on one side rather than facedown. He did not bother to adjust his cap, and it remained ingenuously skewed over dark, messy hair. “KaibaCorp liked what we had to say, and they want to move forward.”  
  
Justin raised a finger in contradiction. “You’re almost there, bud. But it wasn’t KaibaCorp that sent us the email – “  
  
“It was Kaiba.” Richard came from the kitchenette, handing Jennifer a steaming mug and seating himself. Though you knew he had rushed, based on the background noise of his phone call with you, he still looked as neat and put-together as he always did, and you awed at his composure.  
  
Whatever the rest of the group was expecting, it wasn’t that. Immediately, everyone sat up straighter, as though they were being observed and found wanting. A dull murmur coursed its way through the room.  
  
“Himself?” Dale’s voice lowered in pitch somewhat, and he whistled lowly, glancing at Rebecca, who fairly glowed in anticipation, her eyes bright.  
  
“The man himself.” Justin looked elated, spreading his arms wide before threading his fingers behind his head. “I emailed back as soon as I got the text from Jen – “ she raised her mug in toast, not looking up from her paperwork “ – and we’re gonna have another Skype call today.”  
  
“Today today?” one of the developers clarified, gesturing down with one finger.  
  
“Today today,” Justin repeated, shooting a finger gun at the man, who paled. “He wants to hear our pitch with his own ears, so we’re gonna need to go through the whole thing and polish it till it shines. He’s not a gentle judge, so we gotta show our best face, otherwise he’s gonna shi – “  
  
“Justin.”  
  
“Right. We gotta impress the man who can’t be impressed.”  
  
You tugged a lock of hair behind an ear, scratching your cheek thoughtfully. “We’ll definitely need to be on our toes for this. It isn’t so much making sure the material is polished, he’s smart enough to see potential, it’s making sure we believe it. He doesn’t really tolerate uncertainty, so anything we say has to come from a place of confidence, or he isn’t going to want to hear it.”  
  
The expression on Justin’s face became warm as he beamed at you. “Word, couldn’t have said it better myself. I’d prefer if it was right, myself, but most things can be fixed – insecurity can’t. If we gotta bullshit – “  
  
“He’ll smell it immediately and consider it lying,” you cut him off with some irritation, meeting the eyes of everyone else in the room. “Do not bullshit during this meeting. Do not do it. Present your best as though it is your best.” You flashed a look at Justin, whose smile only widened.  
  
“So we’re gonna be live in twelve hours,” Justin announced, glancing at his watch, standing. “Gonna steal Jen and Richard here, and I’m gonna call for you here in a bit,” he gestured at you, a spark of conspiracy in his eyes that made you shift in your seat somewhat nervously.  
  
“Are you sure this time?” No one was sure who said it, but a wave of soft laughter rippled through the room, effectively breaking through the worst of the tension.  
  
Justin barked a self-deprecating laugh. “Dude, right? Yep, told him about my little mishap and clarified with him the time.” He grinned, flashing a peace sign. “Dude didn’t miss a beat, said he’d take care of it: the relevant people have the invite in their calendars from Mr. Man himself, that way I can’t mess it up again. Jen, Dick,” he motioned them through the door, giving a little wave as the three exited to head to Justin’s office.  
  
You had no time to be horrified that Justin had shared such an insignificant misstep with a potential business partner, as it took only a few seconds for the rest of the room to digest the information and burst to life. The developers grouped together, and one of them tugged a laptop from his bag to sort through their most complete drafts of the last week. Rebecca sidled into the seat next to you, and you went over some of the initial promotional copy that you had asked be drafted by the art department.  
  
After a few minutes of this, you felt a hand on your shoulder and started, glancing up at Richard. You registered the dazed look on his face and the tense set of his jaw, and stood, reaching a hand out for his arm. He jerked away slightly, shaking his head before jerking it in the direction of the door.  
  
“Let’s go.”  
  
You followed him, unnerved by his change in demeanor. He did not deign to share his thoughts with you, making the short trip to Justin’s office feel so much longer, a weight pressing into your shoulders. By the time you stepped in and Richard closed the door behind you, you were thoroughly tense. Moreso, when you saw the way the chairs were laid out: Justin was seated behind his desk, feet not propped as they normally were, his hands clasped on the desk; Jennifer sat to his right, and Richard took a seat next to her, crossing his arms over his chest. And there, before the semi-circle they created, was a remaining chair, which Justin gestured for you to take.  
  
Trying to decipher the looks on everyone’s faces, you seated yourself, crossing your legs and putting your hands in your lap to keep from fidgeting. Richard still looked dazed, a crease in his brow, his mouth a hard line; you wondered, vaguely, if Justin and Jennifer had sent him to fetch you to avoid him yelling. Jennifer, for her part, was not looking at you, distractedly picking an imaginary piece of lint from her skirt, and she crossed one lean leg over the other, smoothing the lines in the fabric with some focus.  
  
“So,” Justin began, his face a mask – this was unusual for him, and you felt on-guard immediately. “Based on our meeting the other day, I went ahead and went to the board of directors – “  
  
Richard snorted, and Jennifer placed a hand on his arm soothingly.  
  
You could not stop what came out of your mouth if you tried; “I’m sorry, our meeting? The Skype call?”  
  
Looking up sharply, Richard scoffed, “She doesn’t even know what’s going on, Justin? Are you fucking kidding?"  
  
“Dick, hon – “  
  
“No, this is fucking stupid, and she should hear it."  
  
“Rich – “  
  
Before Justin could silence him, Richard turned to face you fully, the irritation clear in every line of his body. “Justin went to the board of directors and somehow convinced them to make you chief marketing officer.”  
  
Justin let out a soft sigh, his head drooping towards his hands somewhat. You froze entirely, unable to break from the angry eye contact Richard made with you. Slowly, the wheels in your mind began to creak back to life, and the furrow in your brow deepened as you attempted to work through what had just been said. Eventually, the response you came up with was a weak, “What.”  
  
A rough bark of laughter came from Richard’s throat, and he gestured aggressively. “This is what I’m talking about! You don’t think things through, you don’t let anyone know, and you just do whatever the fuck you want – Justin, what if she didn’t want the position? Did you think about that? That she may not have wanted the position because she isn’t qualified for it?”  
  
The comment brought Justin back to life, and he raised his head, standing, his posture rigid and his tone defensive. “Hey, whoa, now – you can’t tell me you don’t think she deserves this?”  
  
Without missing a beat, Richard responded, “I don’t. She isn’t qualified, and she knows it.”  
  
The comment did not feel like a barb because he was right: you did know it. You weren’t qualified. It wasn’t something that you had set your eye on, even for the future, not being an ambitious person by nature, and anyway you had only been with the company for a short amount of time. It seemed like a strange move to make, elevating you to a C-suite position when your experience wasn’t on par.  
  
“This is above her level, and I don’t think she would be able to handle it,” Richard continued, his ire not remotely calmed by making his feelings known; indeed, beneath the collar of his shirt, you noticed numbly that his neck was beginning to color. “More than that, you didn’t clear it with anyone! You didn’t make it known you were looking, you didn’t ask for recommendations, you certainly didn’t check with me or Jen – “  
  
Finally, Jennifer spoke up, still not looking at anyone. “Actually, Dick, he did. Ask me, I mean.” She looked immensely uncomfortable the more Richard raised his voice, but she kept her back straight and her head held upright. “I disagreed for the same reasons that you did at first but – “  
  
“Jen, you’re fucking joking me right now. This is a fucking joke.” So taken aback by the betrayal, Richard sank back into his seat, blinking dumbly.  
  
She gained a bit more confidence, and finally caught his eye. “I’m not joking. I still agree it’s a little unorthodox, and definitely way soon,” she added, glancing at Justin, “but he’s not wrong about her. With everything she’s done within the company, and with the numbers she’s pulled, and the progress her team has made since she began overseeing – “  
  
“It’s not enough!”  
  
“It is.”  
  
Still processing the information, you glanced up at the sharpness in Justin’s tone; he was normally a welcoming presence, sometimes to an extreme, but the stony expression on his face caught you, and apparently Richard, off guard.  
  
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t make you privy to all of my plans, but dude, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t fucking have to.” Justin placed one hand lightly on his hip, assuming a stance more confident than you had ever seen him take. “I cleared it with the board, and we spent some time talking about it, and the fact of the matter is that we decided it’s a go.”  
  
Before Richard could respond, you finally spoke: “Justin?” His head snapped over to you, and his expression softened. “What meeting are you talking about?”  
  
The sharp edges melted from him so quickly and completely you had to wonder if you had imagined it. “Dude, you don’t remember? It was a few days ago, in your office.”  
  
“You…that…” You blinked, shaking your head to clear it.  
  
“You got it, killer.” He flashed a pair of finger guns at you, and laughed. “And we know it’s kinda abrupt, but we figure we can get this going on the back-burner, and everything will be in effect by the time KaibaCorp knows what hit ‘em.” The slick smile settled on his face as though it had never been absent.  
  
“We’ve been having you perform a few more of the duties gradually over the last month or so,” Jen explained gently. “And you’ve already been training your replacement.”  
  
With a flash of indignance, you realized that they _had_ been asking more of you than usual, it simply hadn’t occurred to you until she mentioned it. “I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’ve had me doing? I thought that was only for the KaibaCorp thing, until that was over, I didn’t know she would be taking my job!”  
  
“Kinda?” A contemplative look crossed Justin’s face, and he propped his feet on his desk. “I mean, whatshername? Janine?”  
  
“Jeanne.”  
  
“Sure. Jeanne needed to know the ins-and-outs anyway, because of the KaibaCorp partnership, but definitely since we’re bringing you up to C-suite.” He looked unbothered as he crossed his arms. “Look, I know you guys think I’m crazy, but I promise I’m not gonna lead us into a pit. I do know what I’m doing, and this is the move that needs to happen.”  
  
He made it sound as though it were a simple decision, some foregone conclusion. What rankled was the tone he took, as though he were playing chess while everyone else was playing checkers, and this appeared to be the straw that broke Richard; he threw his hands up and stalked from the room, shooting out one last, “This is a terrible fucking idea,” before slamming the door shut behind him.  
  
Jennifer sighed deeply, assuring you that she would speak with him about it later before congratulating you and heading back to her own office. As you and Justin were left alone in the office, some of the fog of confusion cleared, and panic washed over you anew.  
  
“Justin, CMO? You can’t be serious, I don’t have nearly the experience, and now isn’t really the time – what if I mess something up? It isn’t the same if just another marketing rep does something wrong, it’s a much bigger deal if the entire damn chief marketing officer messes up, and with a new project, especially an international one, and KaibaCorp is such a big name, I could absolutely wreck –“  
  
“Hey! Hey, hey, hey now.” Justin rose from his desk in alarm as you ramped yourself up, weaving around to kneel in front of your chair and grab your arms, rubbing them gently. “Dude, no, it’s gonna be all right. You’re not gonna mess up. I have so much faith in you, and I think you’re gonna be the key to this project.”  
  
He had been saying similar things since you had become aware of the idea, but this time the comments hit you differently. You fixed him with a panicked look, and not for the first time the thought occurred to you that he may not be taking this seriously. Suddenly, a slew of thoughts hit you all at once, and you felt overwhelmed. “Justin, no, you don’t understand – “  
  
“Hey, no, enough.” His grip on your upper arms firmed slightly, a reassuring squeeze, and he forced you to maintain his gaze. You noticed there was an odd flame in his eyes, a passion you weren’t used to seeing from him. “I don’t care if you don’t believe in yourself, though you should – I just need you to believe in me, because I believe in you. You’re going to be wonderful, and we’re going to kill it.”  
  
Gradually your breathing slowed, and you searched his eyes. He was certain, and though you still were certainly not, you allowed yourself the luxury of trusting him. He fetched you a glass of water and knelt next to your chair with a steady hand rubbing small circles between your shoulder blades as you calmed yourself, occasionally offering irreverent words of encouragement.  
  
When the feeling returned to your legs, you allowed yourself to stand, letting Justin keep a light hold on your elbow as he walked you to the door of his office. He opened it and encouraged you to follow your own advice: to find the confidence in yourself before the second meeting with KaibaCorp.  
  
You nodded numbly, and trailed off in the direction of your office, your mind reeling.  
  


* * *

  
The rest of the day passed in a blur, and you completed a good portion of your duties on autopilot. If anyone noticed anything about your detachedness, they did not say anything. You pulled yourself together around midday, attempting to consolidate all of the relevant information on the project so that you could wrap yourself around it and present it in a cohesive manner, but although you were able to gather the information, you were not able to focus strongly enough to bring it together in a way that was remotely useful.  
  
More than once you scattered the files, tossing them in the air in frustration. While this did not necessarily hurt, it also did not help, and you found yourself forcing yourself to narrow everything down sometime after four.  
  
Eventually, Rebecca came to your office and knocked gently. After the closed-door meeting earlier, the office had approached the four of you with some trepidation, at which you felt a pang of guilt. They had no idea what had happened in the office, but they were astute enough to realize that it was a big deal.  
  
“Come in,” you called without removing your head from your hands.  
  
“Hey boss,” she greeted brightly, sweeping in and glancing at the festering chaos. “Would you, ah, like a little help?”  
  
You raised your head and rested your chin on your folded arms. “Please. Sorry, today’s been – “  
  
“Oh, no, it’s all right. Everyone heard Mr. Grant.” She said it calmly enough, kneeling to gather the few sheets that you had neglected on the floor, examining them briefly before adding them to their appropriate place within the files on your desk. She busied herself with making the files neat for a moment, stealing a glance at you.  
  
The embarrassment swelled. “I’m sorry, you guys must be so anxious.”  
  
Rebecca winked at you. “This project’s a killer, huh?”  
  
She seemed so unaffected that it gave you heart, and you rose from your desk to help her gather your files into some semblance of order. Normally a boisterous presence, she forged all of that confidence into a steely calm, and you felt bolstered by it. Rebecca helped you organize the files you needed, and took a few minutes to help you decide which to bring with you into the meeting.  
  
“This one’s got the most up-to-date numbers,” she pointed out helpfully, gesturing, before continuing, “And if you mention this here, even Kaiba will be flattered by the attention.”  
  
You nodded numbly, sure that she was correct; that was why you had collected those statistics to begin with, you reflected, gathering the selected files into your arms and heading to the conference room with her, feeling altogether more confident than you had for the entire rest of the day.  
  
When the two of you arrived, the Skype meeting was already connected, though the time had not yet arrived. You felt a jolt course up your spine as you seated yourself, unable to take your eyes from the screen: once again seated at the same sleek conference table, Date and Kitagawa conversed idly, and at the head of the table sat a familiar brunette figure typing into a compact laptop computer.  
  
You checked your watch self-consciously, making deliberate eye contact with Jennifer, who also had the foresight to arrive early: _Is this right?_ you mouthed to her, and after shooting the camera a sharp glance, she nodded curtly, motioning with her eyes at the sharply cut figure on the screen. The only indication of her irritation was the single tap of her pen against the table.  
  
The three of you reviewed your files in relative silence, Rebecca leaning over to you every so often to quietly confirm a number in her briefing packet. At some point, Richard found his way into the conference room; he paused only for a moment to raise an eyebrow at the screen, but said nothing, seating himself across the table from Jennifer. From the way she glanced up from her file, it seemed that he was still unhappy with the way the morning had gone, and you saw her chew her lip before refocusing.  
  
In a familiar pattern, the developers straggled in, equally brought short by the presence on the screen. Even being present virtually was enough to change the energy of a room, you thought, staring at the same word you had been reading for the last few minutes, only vaguely aware that the world around you was beginning to dim.  
  
Slowly, the clock ticked down to five, and with his usual bustle, Justin entered. It was with some relief that you noticed there were a few minutes to spare, but though the developer he entered with fell into a mildly frightened silence, Justin rambled on unaware.  
  
Your ears buzzed when you heard a quiet _snap_, and that sound drowned out whatever else happened in the room. You felt more than heard Kaiba’s attention shift, a sort of staticky shock down your arms, and it was only then that you noticed the translator was not present. Cool blue eyes levelled on the camera on his side, and you felt yourself pinned to your seat.  
  
“Carriger,” he said brusquely, threading his fingers in front of his face in a posture that was clearly familiar to him. “I have ensured on your behalf that your employees were prepared for this meeting, I wasn’t aware that I had to do the same for you."  
  
Justin raised a hand diplomatically, laughing as he took his seat at the head of the conference table. “Nah, I’m good, I’m here, I’m stoked – everyone’s happy to be here – how are you?” You weren’t sure if he was babbling out of nervousness, or if he simply hadn’t shifted into the appropriate façade yet; either way, the room tensed. You flexed a hand, shaking it gently; the temperature in the room felt as though it had dropped.  
  
In lieu of answering, Kaiba did not move, or indeed respond at all. You weren’t sure if you imagined when his eyes narrowed fractionally, and you finally noticed sharply that the sound around you was quickly losing its vibrance.  
  
Date spoke up finally, after a glance at Kitagawa, who looked far more stressed than he had at the previous meeting. “We are pleased to be speaking with you again,” she said in a tone wholly unlike the enthusiasm of the previous meeting; Kitagawa nodded his agreement, keeping his face carefully neutral.  
  
With increasing helplessness, your mind buzzed as time went on, and you were unable to focus as the attention went around the table. Jennifer stood and discussed the agreement that she had worked out with Industrial Illusions. Hesitating somewhat, Date, without turning fully, said something to Kaiba in Japanese, and he grunted – Date faced the camera again, and simply said, “Very good, Industrial Illusion’s cooperation in this matter is imperative.”  
  
Close on Jennifer’s tail, Dale emailed over a slideshow of some of the mockups of the monsters that his team had been working on; Kaiba grunted softly when Blue Eyes White Dragon came up, but said nothing. Exchanging a brief look that bordered on impressed, Date and Kitagawa took turns asking a series of questions about some of the textures and layers that had been used, which Dale answered competently.  
  
As Richard stood, you found yourself reaching a hand to your chest, rubbing gently against your sternum as your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. By this time, you could not hear anything that was being said, your world enveloped by a muted buzzing sound; you fought to keep your attention on the person you knew was speaking, wrestling your face into a placid mask as your breathing flared.  
  
Kaiba had remained unnervingly still while everyone on the team spoke, though when Richard finished, he asked a question you found unintelligible, and Richard, his gaze unflinching, responded with a confident, muffled sound.  
  
The buzzing in your ears became a shrill ringing, and you struggled not to gasp for breath, clasping your hands tightly against each other in your lap, trying to regain your composure while the edges of your vision blurred. Cold sweat beaded on the back of your neck, and you felt something distant in your bones, akin to terror.  
  
Blissfully, you noticed from the corner of your eye that Justin had stood, speaking and gesturing passionately. He was a bright spot, his voice warm, honeyed, and you found the sound almost soothing, but when he turned attention to you the feeling became ice in your veins.  
  
You felt a nudge against your leg, and Rebecca levelled a concerned glance at you, gently pushing the files that you and she had put together closer.  
  
“Thank you,” you heard yourself saying blandly, and stood on weak legs; you propped yourself up with one hand tented on the table. To anyone onlooking, it would seem a disaffected position, confident and untroubled, but you knew it was the only thing keeping you standing. Somewhat out of breath, you delivered more pointed statistics that your team had discovered: the sharp rise of cardiovascular health in children ages 13-17, the gaining interest in mobile games and the corollary of revenue from these games, and most importantly the percentage of American adults and young adults who played Duel Monsters, as well as their official KaibaCorp ranking, both of which had dropped significantly comparative to a decade ago.  
  
Whatever you were saying was doing the trick: Rebecca swelled with pride, and piggybacked off of your speech, confidently providing her own KaibaCorp rank (as well as yours, you noted numbly as you seated yourself carefully; how did she get that?), and clenching a fist in front of her as she claimed that this game would raise average rank by two full points.  
  
Finally, the room settled into stillness.  
  
After a moment, Kaiba leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and regarding a sheet from his briefing packet. He said something in Japanese to Date, who answered stiffly; Kaiba prompted Kitagawa, who repeated the affirmative Date had supplied, his tone exhausted. Kaiba _hmm_ed shortly, placing the briefing back onto the table and resuming his previous posture. They had another several brief exchanges in this way, with Kaiba acting entirely as though your team were not still on the line, and with Date and Kitagawa answering in clipped sentences, glancing somewhat furtively at the camera.  
  
Kaiba regarded your team icily, a veritable statue seated at the end of the long white conference table. Date rose to speak, but he silenced her with a hand. Carefully, he threaded his fingers again, and made contemplative eye contact with Justin for a long moment in silence. The seconds _tick_ing from the clock felt like needles in your legs, and very suddenly you wanted to run, dread having formed a cool pit in your stomach.  
  
“Fine,” he said finally, smirking. “KaibaCorp will work with you. You’ll join us at our office in Domino in two weeks. Make the arrangements and send them to Kitagawa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m watching through the anime again, right, and I got to the part where Kaiba and Isis are having their duel in the quarter-finals, and it very suddenly hits me that all around him are people who are in the middle of this ancient, magical war, and they’re fighting for their lives and the lives of their loved ones and for the sake of the world, etcetera, and this boy – this sweet, baby boy – just wants to play games with his friends and he’s so confused at all of these actually serious Adult things. Like, by this point, Atem has already chewed him out _three times_ and told him he doesn’t _care_ about the game and that he’s _busy_. Arguably, Kaiba’s motivations are the most normal and the most age appropriate, at least during this arc, and I love it. I’ve slowed down, so I’ve only just reached the Virtual World arc, and I sincerely hope it is as absurd as I remember it being.
> 
> This one was a long one again. Whoops? It was actually almost longer – the starting scene of the next chapter was supposed to be the final scene of this one lmao. They may start just being long chapters moving forward – it’s either that, or split things up, and I don’t like that idea at all; that’ll throw my rhythm way off. I’ve got all but like two or three chapters of the fic planned and outlined, plotwise – you may be pleased to hear I’ve even got an epilogue and oneshot sequel in mind. I said there would only be two duels, but including the epilogue it’s been bumped up to three. You’ll love it, I promise.
> 
> There will be a small change coming up here soon, starting with the next chapter probably. I’ve mentioned it sort of in passing, but in planning I’ve also sort of put together a soundtrack for this fic, so on appropriate chapters (it’ll be most of them) I’ll provide you guys with a song that either sets the stage or sets the tone for the chapter. You don’t have to listen to it, obviously, but I think it provides nice ambiance, and it gives you guys a little extra insight.
> 
> If you are at all interested, I've created a Tumblr to share my creative process, planning, soundtrack, memes et al. I may even do a giveaway if there's interest down the road. Give [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com) a follow to see what's up!


	5. Overture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _It’s wonderful what a smile can hide…_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plyYO64sNMo)
> 
> TW for moderate panic attack

“You’ve been doing so well, what’s causing you to be concerned?”  
  
Since Justin had gotten the greenlight, the administrative staff had immediately sprung into action to make travel arrangements for the team that was going: predictably, it was yourself, the other three executives, and Dale as a representative of the development team. There had been a long discussion on whether or not to bring Rebecca to act as translator, but Justin insisted it wasn’t necessary; he reasoned that it portrayed an image of distrust to KaibaCorp as hosts. Jennifer had agreed with the sentiment, and it was left at that.  
  
Once the dates were set in stone, you had immediately scheduled an appointment with your general practitioner, a sharp elderly man named Lyndsay Tucker. Not only had he been your family’s doctor since you have been a small child, but he had helped you adjust after you had come home from Battle City.  
  
Not that you traveled much, but you were cautious enough about your condition that you ensured to consult with him before you set foot on an airplane. And with the episode you had had during the second Skype meeting, it was better safe than sorry.  
  
You shrugged, thanking him for the paper cup of water and sipping from it gently, holding the paper-thin robe close to your body with your other hand. “Just wanted to make sure. It’s a long flight, and I don’t want there to be any issues.”  
  
Tucker frowned at you, unimpressed. “No, that’s not true. Don’t lie to me, you know I don’t abide it.”  
  
You sipped the water carefully, tugging the hospital gown more fully around yourself. Although he had worked with you and your condition closely, you had developed more discomfort with it as time went on. It was almost shame at having the need to consult him to begin with, at the fact that it wouldn’t just go away.  
  
He drew your attention back to him with your name, and his brow furrowed. “Now, please,” he prompted, clasping his clipboard in his lap, levelling you with a patient look. He could be brusque, and it had taken quite some time to get used to his nature: without the context, it would come across as rude and gruff, and sometimes it still did, though you knew in your core it was because he genuinely cared about his patients.  
  
“I just had a minor panic attack. During a meeting,” you finally admitted, not meeting his eyes. “That’s all.”  
  
“How minor?”  
  
You made a _so-so_ gesture with your hand, taking another sip of water.  
  
“Do you need to see Dr. Lucas again?” Dr. Tricia Lucas was the psychiatrist who had worked closely with Tucker when you had first begun seeing him after your return from Battle City.  
  
You shook your head emphatically; Lucas was kind and thorough, and as a person you liked and respected her, but you absolutely never wanted to reach a point where you had to see her again. “No. No spots, I didn’t dissociate. It wasn’t like a real episode, it was just a mini panic attack. My chest got tight and my hands shook, but that was the worst of it.” You finally met his eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal, I just wanted to make sure the flight wouldn’t _make_ it a big deal.”  
  
“Well,” he said carefully, propping his ankle on the opposite knee and hugging his clipboard to his chest under crossed arms. “That depends a lot on what the trigger for the panic attack was. You know that that isn’t the part that I deal with, that’s Dr. – “  
  
“I don’t want to see Dr. Lucas, Dr. Tucker.” Though you had wanted your tone to sound firm, it came from your mouth rather more petulant than you wanted, and you became frustrated with the direction the conversation was going. You took another delicate sip of water, crushing the empty paper cone in your fist.  
  
He raised his hands in a diplomatic gesture. “I deal with the body, she deals with the mind. If something happened that wasn’t physical, I can’t help you as much as you’d like.”  
  
Your grip tightened on the hospital gown, and you huffed an impatient breath. “I just need to know if I can fly, Dr. Tucker. I’ll check back in with you when I return from this business trip, and if _absolutely necessary_, I’ll call Dr. Lucas.”  
  
Tucker observed you in silence for a moment, finally sighing in irritation. “No you won’t. But I didn’t see anything alarming during our checkup today. When did this episode happen?”  
  
“It wasn’t an epis – “  
  
“I don’t care. When?”  
  
“Week and a half ago. Wednesday.”  
  
He spread his hands into a shrug. “As long as you haven’t had any aftershocks and you’ve been taking care of yourself as you and I, and you and Dr. Lucas, have discussed, then I don’t see any reason for concern.” He made a short note in your record, initialing sharply. “I’m still gonna recommend you talk to Dr. Lucas when you get back, but as far as my part is concerned, you’re clear. Lord knows I can’t make you do a thing you don’t want to do.”  
  
“Wonderful,” you said primly, hopping immediately from the examination table and making for your clothing. “Thank you, Dr. Tucker. I’ll give you a call when I get back to let you know that everything is fine.”  
  
He shook his head and rose from his seat, turning his back to you and reaching for the door knob. “Stubborn child,” he muttered as he let himself out of the examination room.

* * *

Though everyone was well aware of the disparities in the two companies by this point, the first time it was genuinely felt was once the administrative staff had sent the travel arrangements to Kitagawa, as instructed. Within the hour, the head office administrator had received an email from Kitagawa’s secretary indicating that the arrangements did not seem to be correct, and so had been rectified; the office administrator had gone to Richard with the email, and he and Justin had had another closed-door meeting over it that ended with Richard stalking back to his office amongst slammed doors.  
  
When you checked the itinerary that had appeared in your inbox, you discovered that the airline selected had been replaced with a private charter on a KaibaCorp plane, the accommodations had been replaced with a series of suites in a KaibaCorp hotel, and the rental car with a pass to a private car on the new KaibaCorp bullet train.  
  
Unnecessarily, you felt a bit lush as a result, and had difficulty packing for the trip in the proper mindset. A small part of you kept insisting that your regular wardrobe was inappropriate; the more rational part argued that you did not have the funds to compete.  
  
The day arrived with no further incidents, and you dismissed the tightness in your chest as simply being tired, as you usually did, telling yourself that it would dissipate as the day went on, as long as you could get some sleep on the flight.  
  
Since Dale had the largest vehicle, he agreed to drive the carpool to the airfield; he arrived that morning bright and early, stopping by your apartment building first since, you discovered, he lived the closest to you. He insisted on loading your bags into the back of his SUV, and you slid into the front-passenger seat. When he was once again seated and belted, he handed you a takeaway coffee without a word, not looking away from the road as he rolled back onto the road. With a jolt, you found that it was from your preferred café, a mere three blocks from your apartment; when you had taken up running, you visited it frequently. You murmured your thanks, and sipped the beverage in silence.  
  
Eventually, the other three packed into the backseat, and the journey was officially underway. A quiet, nagging voice in the back of your mind began to say that this would be when things would begin to go wrong: an empty gas tank or a blown tire, the resident couple having a fight, someone forgot to have their passport renewed. But the closer your party got to the airfield, the more assured you were: Dale was a careful driver, and quietly kept an eye on all gauges; far from fighting, Jennifer and Richard performed checklist tasks to ensure everyone had their appropriate documentation, work resources, and a sufficient amount of undergarments and toiletries.  
  
The car ride passed in relative calm, despite Justin’s attempts to sing what he called “road trip songs”; he was silenced when Jen placed a hand over his mouth as she scrolled through emails on her phone idly.  
  
When she released him, he smiled, unapologetic, and said, “I wonder if Kaiba’s gonna be flying the jet himself.”  
  
The comment caused Jen to look up from her phone in alarm; Richard, however, did not rise to the bait, his chin tucked on his palm as he stared out the window. “I cannot imagine a reason that he would do that,” he dismissed blandly.  
  
You glanced over your shoulder. “Yeah, I sincerely doubt that he would go through the effort.”  
  
“Ah, that’s what I thought, but he’s making sure we’re getting the swankiest digs, isn’t he? He’s a go-big-or-go-home kinda man, and what’s a bigger flex than flying your own jet to pick up future business partners?”  
  
“Potential partners,” Richard corrected shortly, still keeping his gaze relaxed out the window.  
  
_A bigger flex would be for him not to show up at all_, you thought, chewing your cheek but keeping the comment to yourself. It seemed both odd and entirely in character for Kaiba to go so above-and-beyond for the accommodations for the team, and you wondered how much of it was sincerity and how much of it was simply showing off.  
  
Finally, you all arrived at the airfield; you rubbed your chest absently. Richard had made arrangements ahead of time for Dale to park in their lot, tucking the receipt into a billfold for later as a crew loaded everyone’s luggage onto a cart, zooming off. The same receptionist Richard confirmed parking with directed you to the appropriate hangar, and you boarded a shuttle that sped off in the same direction as your luggage.  
  
You knew what you were expecting when you saw that it was a KaibaCorp plane. You knew what you were expecting, without shadow of a doubt, and yet you were still surprised: large and sleek and white, the colossal jet shone in the early morning sun, all familiar curves and angles. Jen looked significantly more awake as the shuttle neared, and the three men let out a simultaneous low whistle.  
  
“Goddamn.”  
  
The boarding stairs had already been lowered before the shuttle arrived, and a small crew awaited your team. By their looks, they were American, but they wore KaibaCorp pins and badges and lanyards – contractors, if you had to guess. The pilot, a small man with receding red hair, greeted your team excitedly, pumping everyone’s hand in an enthusiastic shake while his large, wry copilot opted for a smirk and a nod in greeting.  
  
“So Kaiba’s not flying the jet himself, huh?” Justin commented as he clapped the pilot on the shoulder, glancing up at the splendor of the jet in appreciation.  
  
The pilot shot his copilot an alarmed glance, but before he could stutter a panicked response Jennifer shushed Justin, who laughed into his hand.  
  
Boarding the jet was an enormous relief, and you tucked yourself into one of the creamy leather seats, digging into your carry-on bag for your earbuds. Everyone seemed to be of the same mind: Jen had kicked off her pumps and curled into her seat, catlike, tucking a blanket over her lap and digging out a battered novel; Richard, ever-practical, immediately slipped on an eye-mask and neck pillow, rolling ear plugs into place; and Dale simply stretched back in his seat, tugging the brim of his cap over his eyes, the gentle snuffles that followed shortly thereafter the only indication that he had so promptly fallen asleep.  
  
Justin, however, swiveled in his seat somewhat, glancing out this window and that, tapping on the armrests and inspecting the various consoles available to the passengers. When he pressed a button, a polite young man hovered near his elbow and they exchanged a few sentences; Justin’s brow furrowed deeper the more the young man spoke, until finally the young man cheerfully saluted, bowed, and took his leave.  
  
This did nothing for Justin’s disquiet, and he raised his leg to turn Jennifer’s seat to face him. Without looking up from her book, she swatted at his leg and turned away from him again. Gently, you tugged one earbud out as he turned her to face him again, a small smile creeping over your lips. She swatted at him again.  
  
“Jen,” he whined. “D’you think – “  
  
“Justin, I swear to god, this is the only downtime I’ve had in this entire last month. You will let me read this book.”  
  
He raised his hands in surrender, but kept his leg on her seat. “No, dude, you’re right, but I just – “  
  
“Justin, shut the fuck up.”  
  
He laughed abruptly and released her, allowing her to settle further into her seat peacefully, satisfied. As he began to turn his attention to you, you slipped the earbud back in; when he caught your eye and opened his mouth, you tapped your ear and smiled pointedly, shrugging. He returned the smile, taking the hint and finally settling himself in as well, digging out his tablet.

* * *

You had expected to dream. Since you fully intended to sleep as much as was possible during the flight, it would have made sense to dream: you were anxious about the partnership, about travelling back to Domino, about the return of Duel Monsters into your life. As you were leaving Dr. Tucker’s office, his receptionist handed you a prescription for diazepam – “_Just in case_,” you were told – but after an afternoon’s deliberation, you had thrown it out before filling it. The last thing you needed was to encourage the notion that you needed to see Dr. Lucas again.  
  
This was not to say that you slept peacefully. The first time you had managed to get to sleep, you were awoken abruptly by the steward, who announced the meal choices dramatically and much too early. To humor him, you made your selection, and suggested he wake up everyone else in the cabin to get their orders.  
  
He winked at you. “Would be hard to get their orders otherwise, if you don’t mind me saying, madam.”  
  
The second time you found sleep, you were jolted back to waking, and found yourself blinking blearily into a pair of earnest eyes.  
  
Justin removed his hand from your shoulder. “Hey! You awake?”  
  
You groaned somewhat. “What?” you mumbled, confused, shaking your head and sitting up straighter.  
  
“Oh dude, sorry, you must’ve been way out. Hey, since you’re awake now, just wanted to talk to you about a couple things I want to happen during this trip.”  
  
The words travelled from your ears to your brain as if through mud, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing the balls of your palms into them. The light in the cabin was overwhelmingly bright to you at that moment, and you rubbed away the beginnings of a headache. “Right now? What time is it?”  
  
“Dunno, didn’t check,” Justin admitted, grinning with false shame. “Anyway, I wanted to talk about Kaiba, and – “  
  
“Justin, is this something that Jen and Richard should be hearing, too?”  
  
He waved a hand. “Nah, this isn’t an executives meeting necessarily. I wanted to let you know some of my thoughts about the project, and Kaiba, and everything. So I was watching some of your duels earlier, the Battle City ones, and some of the other ones that were harder to find – “  
  
You cut him off with a gentle hand to his shoulder, catching his gaze with a plead in your eyes. “Justin, I would be happy to get everything laid out, but we are all exhausted, except for you, and we are all trying to sleep. Why don’t we arrange to do this with everyone once we land? We have plenty of time after landing before we have to meet Date and Kitagawa.”  
  
While you spoke, a strange flicker passed over Justin’s eyes, and he regarded you carefully before grinning again. He patted your hand and pulled away, standing to grab a blanket from one of the wall compartments, snapping it open with a flourish before gently flicking it over you. “You’re right, you’re trying to sleep. I’m sorry, I’m being rude, it’s just – “ He stopped himself short, shaking his head. “Nah, you’re right. We’ll talk about it when we get there. You sleep.”  
  
You nodded, your head heavy. “Yes. Thank you. You too.” Whatever he said in response faded with the rest of the world as you welcomed black again.  
  
And the third time you were jolted awake was due to turbulence.  
  
The plane listed suddenly, and you came to with a jerk, swiveling the chair frantically to face the window – the sky outside was deceptively calm, bright blue with fluffy clouds, the sun streaming through daintily, dotting the wall of the plane cabin like a doily.  
  
Despite the calm you saw outside, your heart began beating rapidly, fluttering a desperate tattoo against your ribcage, and you gripped the armrests of your seat tightly, digging your nails into the supple leather. Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the juddering of the plane to stop.  
  
The crackling of the intercom sounded:  
  
“Ahh, passengers, this is your captain speaking – “  
  
“Are you the captain? I wasn’t sure they’d guess.”  
  
To distract from your frustration in yourself at tossing the diazepam prescription, you worked through the battery of exercises that Dr. Lucas had given you years ago: slowing your breathing and pulling it from a place deeper inside of you; you tried to force your eyes open to ground yourself in the moment, but the tilt and shift and bounce of the cabin made this impossible, and you shut them again.  
  
“Not now! There is some, ah, _mild_ turbulence – “  
  
“Oh goodness, is that what that shaking is, _captain_? I’d thought we’d forgotten to fuel again.”  
  
You supposed the banter between the captain and his copilot, if that was in fact what they were doing, was supposed to bring levity to the situation, but you found it only agitated you more, and you felt a cool pit begin to form in your stomach. You were aware of the other sounds of life in the cabin, though, and Jen’s gentle _hmm_ along with Richard’s soft snores grounded you somewhat. Focusing on that sensation, you found yourself begin to calm, and you narrowed in on that feeling with laser focus, seeking out other sensations to keep you away from the direction you felt yourself heading.  
  
“But! My _lovely_ _copilot_ and I have got this handled. Your safety is our first priority!”  
  
The leather underneath your fingernails gave, and a small, nagging voice in the back of your mind chided you for damaging such nice upholstery. You silenced it, but in doing so a soft moan of helplessness erupted from your throat. Promptly at the sound, a hand clasped over yours; it loosened your grip on the armrest gently and threaded steady fingers through yours. You squeezed hard, and heard Justin laugh, though he did not voice any complaint.  
  
“After peanuts.”  
  
“_Not now_!”  
  
There was one final sharp jerk as the wheels hit the tarmac, and your entire body winced in response, a soft _haaa_ escaping your lips. You waited until the world stopped shaking around you, still clasped tightly to Justin’s hand, and allowed one eye to crack open. Jennifer was stretching in her seat, catlike and unbothered, and reached over to nudge Richard’s knee to wake him – his sigh in response indicated that he had already woken. Opening your other eye, you glanced over and saw that Dale had remained with his legs stretched in front of him, his hands a basket cradling his head; he met your eyes, and canted his head somewhat.  
  
“Didn’t know you were scared of flying.” Justin squeezed your hand gently, and you abruptly released him, averting your eyes as he flexed his fingers. “Ye-ouch!” He laughed, keeping his eyes on you.  
  
Keeping your gaze elsewhere, you began to compose yourself and prepared yourself to stand. “I’m not,” you responded primly.  
  
Justin laughed again, a warm sound that you welcomed as the intercom crackled to life once more, the captain announcing unnecessarily and with no small amount of relief that he had landed the plane safely; you were certain the copilot responded with something dour, but you busied yourself with tidying your things back into your carry-on bag, accepting a hot towel from the steward with a swell of gratitude.  
  
Jen looked sharply at you as she rubbed the towel along her neck and face; she didn’t need to, you thought, as she scarcely looked as though she had just been on a twelve-hour flight. Her brow furrowed, and she collected Richard’s towel and handed both back to the steward. “You’re afraid of flying? Why didn’t you say?”  
  
“I’m not afraid of flying,” you insisted patiently, still not willing to look anyone in the eye. “I guess it was the turbulence, it was just a small, I don’t know, panic attack, or something. It wasn’t a big deal – if anyone’s interested, I also dislike earthquakes,” you finished drily, standing, stretching your back, and slinging your bag over your shoulder.  
  
The glance she and Richard shared told you they didn’t believe you, and you felt a tug of frustration. It had been enough that you had experienced another attack, you certainly didn’t need the added embarrassment of having to explain yourself.  
  
Finally, Dale stirred, standing and tugging his carry-on from the compartment next to his seat, hoisting it to dangle from his fingers over his shoulder. “She says she isn’t scared of flying. I imagine turbulence makes everyone a little nervous – especially with the pilot jabbering like ours was.”  
  
You had no way to express your appreciation for the shift in focus, fixing Dale with a warm look while everyone else stood as well, retrieving their bags from the compartments in the walls of the cabin.  
  
Richard snorted, tucking his pillow away, and Jen barked a laugh. “Oh my god, right? What was up with that? I felt like I was in an episode of the Muppets.”  
  
“Do you think Statler and Waldorf would have been good pilots?” The grin on Justin’s face was wry.  
  
The cabin opened, and a rush of fresh air greeted you with the sunshine; everyone made their way down the seamlessly expanding set of boarding stairs, joking amongst themselves and thanking the members of the crew for the flight. You trailed behind and gently bumped your shoulder against Dale’s arm, smiling your thanks. He offered you a nod, and descended the stairs.  
  
You were glad to have steady ground beneath your feet when you finally took the last step, breathing in a full, deep breath and enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on your face. The air was chilly, and you could smell the threat of snow in the air.  
  
Glancing over to where the rest of your team was, you noticed that there was a small posse of people waiting for you, all uniformed professionally in light grey, tailored suits, their expressions politely cheerful. A woman around your age stepped forward and bowed deeply, her long, sleek hair slipping over her shoulder in a curtain. As she rose, she spoke; “Welcome. My name is Chiba Shiori, and we are with the international relations department at KaibaCorporation. This is my colleague, Matsubara Nobuyuki – “ she gestured to a man, who bowed, then rose and waved his greeting, “ – and we are your designated guides during the duration of your stay in Domino City.”  
  
“Welcome committee! Word!” Justin exclaimed, mimicking the bow – you noticed thankfully that his hands remained at his sides, rather than coming to clasp in fists as he had done before. He was learning. “My name is Justi – “  
  
Chiba laughed, holding up a hand. “Oh, we are aware of who you are,” she said. Her tone was polite, but you felt everyone stiffen at Justin being cut off. Your brow furrowed; it was an oddly aggressive thing to say, but if Justin took any notice of it he didn’t show it, taking the interruption in stride and holding his hand out to shake.  
  
Chiba and Matsubara led your party across the airfield, discussing the week’s itinerary as you walked. First you would be taken to the hotel so that everyone could rest in their suites for a few hours, then later in the evening you would be joined by Date and Kitagawa at a host club. Justin interrupted here, and a brief explanation was offered to him as to what a host club was; he raised his eyebrows and exchanged a look with Dale, who shrugged.  
  
Then tomorrow, Chiba continued, would be a tour of the Domino branch of the virtual gaming division. When it was asked when the meeting with Kaiba would occur, Chiba demurred daintily, and directed the subject back to the night’s activities.  
  
“We are certain that you will enjoy your evening,” she said, ushering you and the team into the convoy of sleek cars awaiting your team near the hangar. “The host club is one of KaibaCorporation’s, and Date-_san_ has ensured that there is a special activity planned for you when you arrive which has become quite popular.”  
  
Any attempts at discovering what this activity was failed. Though she and Matsubara were undeniably polite and friendly, trying to have a conversation with them was beginning to get frustrating. Every time a question was asked, they sidestepped and reoriented to discussing the weekly itinerary; after the third time, it became clear that you would not be able to get anything further from them. When Jen crossed her arms and legs and took to watching the cityscape pass on the way to the hotel, you could see you weren’t the only one who felt frustrated.  
  
The procession of cars eventually pulled up to a nondescript building, and you and your team were helped out by a team of bustling attendants who said nothing to you as they collected your luggage and moved as a troop into the building. Through the mirrored—glass windows paneling the façade of the building, you could see them marching efficiently into the elevators before disappearing from view.  
  
Chiba and Matsubara led your team up the elevators to the series of rooms that had been prepared for you. Although KaibaCorp knew that Jen and Richard were a couple, you and she shared a floor, while the men would reside on the level below.  
  
“You understand,” Chiba said to Jen, who grunted, kissing her fiancé on the cheek before following Chiba out of the elevator.  
  
Her demeanor changed entirely when she saw the suite she would be occupying: like most things KaibaCorporation, the rooms were largely monochromatic in a bright white with a few blue accents. The deep blue carpet was plush and dense, and the couches were richly piled with dragon-shaped throw pillows. There was a kitchenette, sleek in stainless steel, and Jen let out a small squeak of anticipation as she set foot into the bathroom. Whatever time she had been looking forward to spending with Richard went out the window upon sight of the claw-footed bathtub and rain-head shower.  
  
Chiba indicated that your rooms were across the hall, and handed you the key, bowing deeply as she excused herself. “Please make yourselves comfortable. The schedule for the evening and morning has been emailed to each of you, and a car will come by with escort this evening.”  
  
Dumping her bag on an armchair, Jen began her inspection of the room, opening various doors and drawers. “Who knew that Kaiba’d schill out for these kinds of digs?” she commented idly as she moved. “I didn’t expect him to be the hospitable sort, y’know? Holy shit, look at the mini-bar.”  
  
You watched her take stock of the room, smiling at her amazement. The comment seemed in line with what you had been thinking as well, but you reminded yourself that it also wasn’t out of character for him to do these kinds of things. The motivations behind his decisions were still nebulous to you, something you hoped would change as time went on, though you carried a healthy amount of skepticism. “I dunno,” you responded, glancing around. “Maybe this level is just what he’s accustomed to. Like it doesn’t occur to him that anyone else he works with would require less.”  
  
Jen snorted, and you knew she believed that as much as you did. “If there’s a thing that hasn’t occurred to that man, I’d be amazed to know what it is. No, it’s probably a dominance thing,” she decided firmly, settling herself comfortably on the couch.  
  
You half-nodded, not disagreeing. “It’s a possibility.”  
  
“It’s most likely,” Jen laughed, snuggling one of the dragon pillows into her lap. “And if that’s how he wants to be, that’s fine by me. He can dominate me all he wants.”  
  
You coughed a laugh at the comment, deciding this was the best time to excuse yourself. “I’m gonna go take a nap before we have to meet Date and Kitagawa. It sounds like we have a long night ahead of us.”  
  
Jen _hmm_ed her agreement, cracking open one of the bottles from the mini-bar and giving it an experimental sniff. “And a host club, at that. Kaiba’s full of surprises,” she said, taking a delicate sip. “Can’t wait to see what that’s about.”  
  
“Surely more than just drinks and company,” you agreed over your shoulder, closing the door gently behind you. Across the hall you found a mirror of Jennifer’s rooms, setting your things down and heading straight for the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Haaaaaaah_, this definitely got away with me. By a lot. This one was actually a struggle for me, and I was forced to split this one into two parts because I didn't want you guys to have to slog through like 12k words in one sitting. _My baaaaaad_. Keep an eye out for part two tomorrow, and it'll have a bonus song that I was originally only going to post on Tumblr.
> 
> _Oh man guys_. I have so many feelings to share with this update. So I made it through the Virtual World arc, and I just, my heart, I can’t. I don’t know how much this will mean to how many of you, but during his duel with Noa, _Kaiba changed his verb form_, ugh, my heart, I can’t. I’m weak. Kaiba Kyodai make my heart so tender.
> 
> Also. Also. _Guys_. I started writing a couple scenes from the epilogue and the sequel, because Self Care, and I super can’t wait for us to get there.
> 
> Speaking of self care, I was being real self-indulgent when I wrote the air travel scenes. The crew is 100% from another piece of media. I’m torn between wanting to share and wanting to wait for someone to guess first.
> 
> And I’m so super pleased that I’m getting such _reactions_ from y’all! I love reading all of your comments, I love hearing your thoughts and suppositions, and I love hearing the things that you’re looking forward to. Y’all are driving me forward, and I appreciate you all so much: big shoutout to FUTUREanon, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, Scarletbelle87, Est, and haise_leonheart for chatting with me in the comments; and thanks to octopus_in_space, touchtonedoppio, slayerk1d, greywhitemonotone, Katherina, and all of the guests who left kudos! You are all of you wonderful and lovely.
> 
> If you are at all interested, I've created a Tumblr to share my creative process, planning, soundtrack, memes et al. I may even do a giveaway if there's interest down the road. Give [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com) a follow to see what's up!


	6. Shining Complex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally, this was gonna be the actual chapter five, because I wanted to get the travel out of the way in like a brief aside scene in chapter four, but. That. That didn’t happen. Could you imagine if these had both been one chapter?? Nah, man. This may be growing beyond my control, y’all. Anyway, this is a smidge later than I wanted, but I did promise. I hope you guys have as much fun reading this one as I did writing it.
> 
> And next time! Kaiba!
> 
> Also, quick shoutout to dude12, MorgannePhaedras and the guests that left kudos; and thanks as always to those who chatted with me in the comments: Scarletbell87, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, Gale, and sakuchwan. Y'all were super quick on that update! Thanks for everyone's support! Additionally, I hope all my American lovelies had a wonderful Thanksgiving - and all you non-American lovelies, I hope you have a wonderful and safe Black Friday weekend coming up!

Several restful hours later, you heard the knock at your door. Rousing with a protracted groan, you shuffled across the room to answer. When Dale turned back to the door to face you, he cocked his head and stifled a grin.  
  
“Good nap?”  
  
Based on this reaction, you were certain you looked wretched, but for the first time in weeks you felt wonderful. Sure, there was the impending and ever-present uncertainty over the partnership, but the dreamy sheets and the ability to sleep without an alarm had somehow lifted some of the strain.  
  
Still, you laughed somewhat self-consciously, and ran a hand over your hair. “Is everyone waiting on me?” If there was time to get a shower in, you wanted it – if not, you would have to make do.  
  
Dale surveyed you once, a quick down-up motion of his eyes, before he turned his head and tugged the brim of his hat over his eyes. “Not quite. Got some time,” he mentioned pointedly, glancing back at you briefly. He added, casting a glance over his shoulder, “Hanging out in Jen’s room.”  
  
A thought hit you. “Oh, because her mini-bar is already open.”  
  
Dale shrugged noncommittally, but you knew your assumption was correct. Normally, you would have smiled and shaken your head – it was mildly juvenile, but Jennifer was well known for enjoying a drink before a rousing night of drinks – but this time it hit you with some relief. “Well that’s perfect, I can freshen up a bit, and then we can leave.”  
  
The down-up flick of his eyes repeated, and he caught your eyes briefly before shifting his weight to turn back to Jennifer’s room. “Look fine to me, but I’ll let everyone know.”  
  
Catching the movement, you had already begun to close the door and turn toward the bathroom. “Thanks Dale! I’ll be super quick, like fifteen minutes.”  
  
You sped through a shower, blissfully washing the jet lag off of yourself. It was an effort to remove yourself, as it had been from the bed, but you managed, and arranged your hair and threw on a set of fresh clothing. You had to hedge your bets on what you wore, and all factors pushed you toward erring on the side of business.  
  
You met everyone else in Jennifer’s room twenty minutes later, and declined a shooter, reminding everyone that it was prudent to reign it in before meeting up with Date and Kitagawa. If Date had undescribed “activities” planned, it would be best to be sharp, especially since the implication was that you would be drinking throughout the night.  
  
As promised, Chiba and Matsubara were waiting for you in front of what looked like the same cars from earlier in the day as the team stepped from the lobby. The welcomed you with the same blank smiles and deep bows, and ushered you into the cars. The ride to the host club was silent; you and Jennifer shared a look, and opted for staring out the window into the night of the city rather than attempting to communicate with Chiba. This seemed to suit her just fine, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased as she took the car ride as a chance to relax.  
  
When the party arrived at the host club, they explained that Date and Kitagawa would call for the cars when the night was over, bowed deeply once more and disappeared into the cars, which pulled seamlessly back onto the road.  
  
Everyone shifted uncomfortably at their abrupt exit. Richard glanced at his watch, frowned, and swept his arm at the door. “I guess we’re going in now.”  
  
Once inside, the team peered around with some interest. Justin craned his neck to take as much in as he could, then leaned into Dale and mumbled something; Dale frowned and shook his head, leaning in to answer. Richard shot them a look that indicated whatever exchange had passed was not something to be repeated, and Justin grinned.  
  
Before your party could be approached by staff to be seated, Date appeared at the end of a long hall, her head poking out from behind a door. She smiled hugely, and waved you over. As you reached her, you saw that the door led to a series of stairs into a basement room, where Kitagawa sat. He jumped up to greet your party, and you noticed immediately that their demeanors had changed noticeably from the stiff closedness of the previous meeting. Date hugged everyone enthusiastically, her cheeks lightly flushed, and though Kitagawa’s excitement was more subdued, he was still clearly pleased to see everyone.  
  
“Welcome!” Date bubbled, sitting back down and pressing a button from a console in the railing along the walls. “Please, come sit! We will have a hostess come to deliver drinks!” From the drinks in front of them, you could see that they had the same idea as Jennifer and the others.  
  
You were corralled into the seats available, low ottomans dotted about the room next to small tables. There was the railing along the walls which appeared to have a number of controls to perform the usual bar functions, but there was another panel whose purpose you couldn’t decipher. The lights in the room were low, but three of the walls had a sheen that hinted to you that they were screens. You didn’t have time to wonder what they were normally used for before a sweet young girl came to collect your drink order.  
  
When the bustle of arriving had died down, and everyone seated with a drink in their hand, Date beamed at everyone in turn, clapping her hands daintily in her excitement. “We are so pleased to have you here!” she said, throwing her arms wide. “We have reviewed all of the work that you have done so far, and we are very excited to show you what KaibaCorp has to offer!”  
  
Kitagawa nodded eagerly. “_Un_. We have been wanting to do something like this for a long time, but have been waiting for the best opportunity.”  
  
Justin’s chest puffed up with each word, and he seemed fit to burst. “Word!” He grabbed his beer and raised it. “Let’s hope everything runs without a hitch. _Kanpai_!”  
  
The toast brought the cheer around the room, and you sipped your drink carefully. Though they seemed to be more relaxed than any time previous, you still had your reservations. It seemed odd to you that a company as large as KaibaCorp would be left wanting for suiters, and that Kaiba Seto was the type to wait for an opportunity rather than create one himself. You had researched that when doing business, the Japanese relied on implicitness rather than simply being open, and you suspected this is what was happening, though what they wanted you could only guess.  
  
“So what’s this surprise that we’ve been hearing about?” Jennifer asked with interest, inspecting the panels and pressing a button. Almost immediately, one of the young women who had brought your drinks appeared, and Jennifer ordered another round.  
  
A glint appeared in Date’s eye, and her previously pert smile turned slick. “Yes. You see, this host club is owned by KaibaCorporation, and we often use it for business,” she explained, confirming something you had already suspected. She gestured to the wall across from everyone, blank of all decoration. “And this room is, _ano_, a testing room?”  
  
“Beta,” Kitagawa supplied helpfully, leaning his back against the wall.  
  
“Yes! We beta test some of our games here during business meetings.”  
  
_So that’s it_, you thought, eyeing the mysterious panel again. “So the screens on the wall, they’re for the games,” you voiced your thoughts. “And these extra panels? The buttons and all? Obviously, these are for host service, like a drink or appetizer, but what about these ones?” You gestured.  
  
Date nodded. “_Hai_, these are controls for the virtual environment,” she confirmed.  
  
Excitement bubbled up around you as Jennifer and the men rose from their seats with interest as Date explained the panels, but you froze. Though you could have suspected there would be something like this, you hadn’t known, and you berated yourself for not thinking of it. You felt your heart rate rise slightly, and you took a gentle sip of water.  
  
“Word! All right, cool, so we’re gonna be helping you guys test out a game? That’s super cool!” Justin exclaimed, hooking the headset Kitagawa handed him over one ear. A small light flashed once as it powered on, and a blue panel erupted from its body to cover Justin’s eyes. “Ha! Dude this is so cool.”  
  
You took the earpiece you were handed, and fixed it into place, jumping slightly when the panel covered your eyes. Your vision was black for a moment, then you heard the white noise hum around you as the screens came to life, and suddenly your vision was filled with an electric blue grid.  
  
Once everyone appeared in your field of vision except for the KaibaCorp representatives, you heard Kitagawa speak up. “This is the trial for an expansion to an adventure game we have been planning,” he explained as a menu appeared in your field of vision. Your brow creased into a frown as some selections were made, but you said nothing, biting your tongue as Kitagawa continued his explanation.  
  
It seemed much the same as many medieval adventure games you had seen, and the gamers of the group murmured their agreement, listing between themselves a few they found most similar. The largest difference, Kitagawa said, was that power-ups, spells, attacks and the rest would actually be performed by the party. As he said this, a character customization screen appeared in front of your eyes, and everyone murmured their amazement quietly.  
  
The classes and characters, Date picked up, had already been chosen ahead of time based on dossiers that KaibaCorp had built, and could not be changed. While they explained the rest of the rules, you began to feel around, searching for the controls. When a menu with your character’s statistics popped up in front of you, you jumped slightly, and Justin barked a laugh.  
  
“Sorry man,” he chortled, making small exploratory motions himself. To your knowledge, of the five of you, only he and you were not regular gamers – it had seemed odd to you that Justin was not, given the conceit of his own company, but he shrugged it off when you brought it up, saying it had “_never really interested him after a certain point.”_  
  
Richard deftly gestured, moving his way through the screens, and he leaned into Jennifer, who was already on her feet and playing with the range of motion. She twirled somewhat, delighted, and punched her fists together in front of her. Richard nodded curtly, turning to address the team. “Looks like Jen is our monk archetype, she’s got high attack and absurd defense. My stats are pretty balanced, but I’ve got a magic power gauge and she doesn’t.” He flicked his fingers and tilted his head. “My equipment looks like a fencer’s.”  
  
“Red mage.”  
  
Richard nodded at Dale, who was moving through his own menus. “Seems like. What else have we got?”  
  
Dale raised and lowered a shoulder noncommittally. “Wizard, looks like, probably illusionist based on my skill menu. High magic bar, low defense. Gonna need you, Jen.” He sounded rueful about it.  
  
She had discarded her heels and was bouncing on the balls of her feet slightly. “Hell yeah, you are.” She seemed giddy, excited to start, and took another drink.  
  
Dale made his way to you. “Found your stats?”  
  
You nodded. “Think so. No defense whatsoever, but I can’t even see the end of my magic bar.”  
  
“Another wizard? That’s strange. Can you find your skill menu?”  
  
Before you could feel your way to what looked like a skill menu, Kitagawa piped up again; “Actually, your class is special. We are testing a new feature, and since this is a _kyabakura_, we think it will be popular with clients. We have been looking for a way to incorporate karaoke into the game, and we believe your class is the solution.”  
  
Jennifer laughed somewhat. “So she’s a bard?” She winked at you. “Couldn’t have picked a better person.”  
  
The crease in your brow deepened, and you bit your cheek. Singing in front of a group was not your strong suit. Certainly, you had done karaoke when you were in college, but the appeal had worn off after a while. “I’m not sure that that’s ideal,” you said mildly, reaching for your drink to take a nervous sip.  
  
As though expecting this reaction, you heard Date laugh, and your menu switched before your eyes. “Do not worry!” she chirped. “Because the songs are optional, we have added healing spells to your skills as well. You are very important!”  
  
“So important!” Jennifer crowed, ignoring your expression, and turned to Justin. “And what about you, boss?”  
  
“As if you have to guess.” He took an exaggeratedly rigid stance, making a single fist in front of himself, miming holding something. “I couldn’t be anything but a knight.”  
  
Once everyone had become comfortable with feeling their way around their personal menus, Date and Kitagawa took turns explaining the concept: as with most adventure games, you would be going through a mission. To get to the goals, you would have to go through battle – they walked Jennifer through the motions as everyone else watched, and she delightedly shattered a virtual urn with a flaming fist.  
  
During battle, they continued, a menu would pop up for everyone to accept a song – this was where you came in, you learned. If everyone accepted, then a song would play for the duration of battle, and you would sing it, following cues on the screen, and if successful you would cast an effect spell; you noted its similarity to other karaoke games and the many dance games you had seen. When Date asked if you wanted to test it, you shook your head, which drew another laugh from Jennifer.  
  
“What about you two?” Richard asked finally, his eyes blankly falling on the space Date and Kitagawa occupied in the real world. They did not appear in the virtual reality that you could see, and had wondered what their role was, yourself. Surely they weren’t going to simply sit and watch as your team played this game, were they?  
  
They paused, and in answer, they simply said that they would appear later. You could hear the shared grin in their voices.  
  
Finally, the environment around you shifted, and you felt a gentle static move across your skin, a fluttering sensation, almost a breeze. When you looked down, your virtual character was wearing cropped pants and a tunic, and a sash and belt combination that jingled gently when you moved. When you ran your fingers over the pouch hanging from your hip, item descriptions and YES and NO prompts flashed in front of your eyes. You glanced over at the rest of your team in awe, a wide smile taking over your expression when you caught sight of everyone else.  
  
Jen was closest to you, and you immediately saw the Duel Monsters inspiration that touched everything KaibaCorporation did in her outfit, reminding you distinctly of Amazoness Fighter, complete with thick wrappings down her forearms and over her fists; she caught your eye, and punched her fists in front of her again, shooting you another wink. Richard made his way over, the enormous feather in his hat bobbing as he moved; while you stifled a giggle, you noticed the appreciative glance Jennifer sent him.  
  
Appropriately, Dale’s hood covered most of his face, and only his stubbled jaw was visible.  
  
Justin, for his part, was ecstatic in his shining plate, and he moved about a little in his delight. “Guys, check this shit out!” An elated laugh left his throat, and the cheer was infectious, spreading among you quickly.  
  
“Ah!” You pointed into the sky, where a box appeared and began to fill with Japanese characters. You could read a few of them, but before it became a problem, you heard either Date or Kitagawa hit a button on the control panel, and a majestic voice began to narrate for your party in English.  
  
“Travelers!” it boomed. “A plague has spread through this land, and you have been contracted by the surviving families to discover the cause of, and end, this blight!”  
  
“Word! Hell yeah, we will.” Justin raised a mailed fist, flashing a bulky thumbs up.  
  
Large white characters followed by a question mark appeared below the text box, and below them two sets of characters appeared. You reasoned that the options were either yes or no, but you were unable to read the choice being asked of you.  
  
Date jumped to the rescue. “Would you like to play the tutorial before you begin?”  
  
As soon as the words left her mouth, the options YES and NO appeared in your vision, and you saw the same hovering iridescent in front of everyone else’s face. Immediately, Jen, Richard and Dale selected NO and it glowed red; with a shrug Justin followed suit, winking at you. Hesitantly, you selected NO as well, and a boisterous score filled the air, trumpets blaring as the scene shifted again.  
  
The first couple of battles passed without incident as everyone experimented with movement and controls, and became more familiar with their characters and classes. Justin and Dale learned quickly what their classes were best suited for, as Justin jumped headfirst into the fray only twice before being knocked onto his behind in the dust by a larger enemy, and from the way Dale moved his character it was clear he was used to a more offensive position in the games he played. These things changed quickly, as Justin became significantly stronger with each level his character gained, and Dale adjusted his play style to stick to the fringe of battle and manipulate the field.  
  
The teamwork of Jennifer and Richard, as it usually was, was something to behold: his character’s speed was on par with hers, but where he darted in a weakened the enemy with magic, she would leapfrog over him and perform a crushing finisher. At one point, Jennifer and Justin discovered coordinating combination attacks, and battle became a breeze.  
  
You hovered on the periphery, casting healing magic every so often when needed, and bartered with the merchants that weren’t programmed to run when enemies were nearby. You found that some enemies carried loot, and what kind of loot was carried by which kind of enemy, and how much all of it was worth. But more than that, it seemed, your interactions with the non-player characters was what seemed to advance the storyline of the quest your team was on.  
  
After perhaps the fifth or sixth enemy engagement, the team felt comfortable in allowing you to try out the performance feature. Absently, you heard Date and Kitagawa talking amongst themselves, providing a light commentary on the progress, but when the party selected for you to perform they ceased; you vaguely heard the creak of leather as they shifted forward in their seats.  
  
Once again, you felt the breezy flutter of electricity over your limbs, and your bard’s gear wafted as music began to swell around you. The karaoke’s bouncing ball appeared along the bottom of your vision to indicate the rhythm, and with a laugh you realized it was a J-Pop song – it wasn’t one you knew, but with the difficulty setting as it was, and the bouncing ball in your field of vision to guide you, you managed your way through it and provided your team with an automatic health regeneration buffer for the duration of the battle.  
  
Justin whooped as his sword cleaved through the final enemy, which pixelated into the air like so much dust. “Dude! That was so cool!” He tugged his helm off, tucking it beneath his arm as he turned to you. “Think you can do that for all the fights?”  
  
Now that the first one was out of the way, and you had done well with it to boot, you felt a little of his elation, and you nodded your head eagerly. “I think so. I wonder if the reward is going to be the same for all the fights?”  
  
Richard dusted his tunic and tugged his gloves tighter up his wrists. “I doubt it. It’s probably based on the difficulty of the song, and your level. Has everyone been getting the same amount of experience from each of the battles? Let’s do a stat check.”  
  
As it turned out, the experience was distributed based on participation in the battle, and you only received a fraction of the experience points that everyone else had. Even Dale, though he largely stayed distant from the fray, had a solid three levels on you. Though you had received some experience from your turns healing and removing status ailments, the amount you received from performing the song outstripped even the amount Justin and Jennifer had been receiving from finishing blows.  
  
“If that’s the case, we should farm really quick,” Richard said. “Let’s move forward, but we need to make sure we’re giving you the opportunity to sing for every battle.”  
  
“Wonderful,” you said, a bit dour. Though you felt marvelous and buzzed with excitement at the initial success, the prospect of having to sing all night preemptively tired you.  
  
Once you had all noticed the way the experience was disbursed after a victory, you caught up to the team in no time, and received an alert after only the second song. You waved a hand at Richard. “Hey, I think my ability leveled up. Looks like I can choose the effects, I just have to unlock them and level them up.”  
  
Dale tugged his hood back somewhat. “Which do you have now? It doesn’t look like the levels scale, so we’re a little overpowered for this area. Auto-regen is nice, but something offensive would be better at this point.”  
  
“Ah, let me check, hang on.” You dragged through the screens to the ability screen, then flicked your eyes across your abilities’ descriptions. “It looks like a low-level poison spell. But if I’m understanding this right, my abilities are cumulative.”  
  
“They stack?” Dale rubbed a hand along his stubbled chin. “If we had more time in this game, you’d be broken quick.”  
  
“Broken?”  
  
“Over-powered. Effects don’t usually stack that way until endgame, and for high-level mages with high-level abilities. Usually gotta work for it.”  
  
Unable to stop moving since the game had begun, Jen bobbed on the balls of her feet impatiently. “Well, let’s test it, then, and see what else we can unlock. We’ve definitely leveled out of this area, so let’s try that direction.” She pointed to a craggy mountain trail.  
  
Everyone looked to where she was pointed, and Justin laughed once. The trail led through a rocky valley and into what looked like a den; the color palette was noticeably grey-er in the area, and had low-hanging clouds which hummed with blue streaks of lightning.  
  
“Why, you think we’ll find something over there, Jenny?”  
  
Sure enough, the monsters became noticeably hardier the further along the trail your party went – and the songs increased in difficulty, as well. Some you knew by rote from your teenage years, but some you only barely fumbled through, growing increasingly frustrated at the embarrassment. You tried not to let it affect the next song, but it inevitably did, and you realized that this was part of the game as well.  
  
Finally, you reached the very lowest part of the valley, and the trail began to peter off before you; at this point, everyone was simply picking their way carefully across the rocky floor, sometimes having to halt the progression to climb up or down a particularly large boulder. Glancing just ahead, you noticed that it was a den: you could see the Dragon Dwelling In The Cave that slumbered at the mouth of a cave, snoring deeply. Reclining on the rocks beside the beast were two dark hooded figures, who rose to greet your party.  
  
From beneath the hood you could make out ghastly grey skin stretched over sharp cheekbones, red jaundiced eyes, and cruel yellow fangs as its thin lips split into a grotesque smirk.  
  
“You made it!” Date’s voice erupted from the horrid creature, and you realized belatedly that they had intended to be the final battle all along.  
  
“So it was you,” you said, piecing it together as you spoke. “You and Kitagawa. You’re, what…?”  
  
“Sorcerers, looks like?” Justin supplied, leaning in to get a closer look. “Definitely evil, though.” Justin shot the two hooded figures a wink, and the creature that was Date covered her fanged maw with a sleeve, giggling.  
  
“You have all done so well! You figured a lot of the mechanics out very quickly,” she added, her grin widening in a way that twisted your stomach. “So! Let us battle, and we can all return to our drinks!”  
  
The creature that was Kitagawa lifted its arms wide, the sleeves trailing and flapping in batlike way as a large shadow erupted from his center. As it crawled over the land, you noticed that everything withered and froze upon contact, and you saw that they were indeed where the blight must have started.  
  
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the option to perform the song, and as you hesitated over it you could hear the opening refrain begin to play, just faintly. The party looked at you in alarm as they heard the siren and increasing tempo of the guitar. It was a furious melody, and certain to cause a wreckage of an unpracticed tongue.  
  
“No,” Richard said.  
  
“It’s all right, we don’t want you distracted, you’re too important and they’ll take you out right quick,” Jen added as a drumbeat juddered. “Just keep us healed, and we’ll use the buffs we have.”  
  
Very suddenly, it hit you.  
  
You knew this song. Not like you _knew of_ the other songs, and had a working knowledge of the language that you could feel your way through it with the metronome of the karaoke bouncing ball. No, you _knew_ this song. More than that, you _liked_ it.  
  
And even more than that, you knew that if you could pull this out, the reward would be greater than any other successful performance yet, and you could yet win the game for the team.  
  
You turned to Justin, who had been considering you, and met his eyes fiercely. “I’ve got this.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow, then glanced up at the sky, where the music swelled in volume and seemed to expand within the storm clouds and the growing darkness of the blight. “Starting soon. Kinda fast,” he pointed out, meeting your eyes.  
  
“No, Justin. Please, trust me.” You turned to everyone else and selected YES in your menu. Determinedly, you whipped to face Date and Kitagawa. “I’ve got this.”  
  
Justin half-shrugged, unsheathing his sword and selecting YES from his menu, the word casting a cool blue glow over his right eye. “Then get it.”  
  
As the words began to tumble out of your mouth, everyone else leapt into action. Initially, you suspected, they assumed the battle would be over before the song was, as many of the others had, but the creatures that were Date and Kitagawa batted them away easily with sweeps of their arms. You felt a chill across your legs, and jumped out of the shadow that was creeping its way over your limbs. You stumbled over a difficult line with the loss of focus, but brought yourself back sharply.  
  
With a smirk, you chanted the chorus to the song, and feeling the triumph begin to warm you, you began to dance in spite of yourself, in spite of your shyness and your anxiety, and in spite of your previous frustrated embarrassment. With each word, with each step and shimmy of your shoulders, a new spell cast itself on a team member, and by the time you had reached the second refrain your team members glowed with the faint white-blue light of healing.  
  
You felt the power begin to bristle beneath your skin at the final repetition of the chorus, and vaguely you noticed that the blight had begun to clear, grass and plantlife beginning to sprout beneath your feet.  
  
As the final chords wavered in the air, Date and Kitagawa came to their knees, panting. Date made eye contact with you and grinned that horrible, toothy grin before fading into dust.  
  
There was silence for a few long moments, then, before suddenly a victory march erupted and fireworks spewed from the sky. The text box reappeared in the sky, filling with characters as the narrator boasted proudly, “Travelers! You have vanquished the evil, and brought wellness and life back to the land!”  
  
Disinterested in watching the credits, you tugged the earpiece off, and immediately were bombarded by boisterous congratulations – hands reached from all sides to clap your shoulders, and Jen hugged you tightly, gasping out, “That was _so cool_!”  
  
Date clapped her hands excitedly, her human smile a much less sinister version of her smile in-game, and she and Kitagawa exchanged an unambiguously impressed look. It was possible, Kitagawa hinted later, that they may have changed the difficulty setting over time.  
  
Feeling full and satisfied with yourself, you handed back the earpiece and settled back into your seat while your team discussed the mechanics of the game they had just played. Another round of drinks was ordered, and Justin stood.  
  
“Now, if what we create is anything like _that_,” he nodded at the screen, “then I know I’m not alone when I say that this one is the most important asset we’ve got.” His eyes shone when he met your gaze, and he lifted his half-empty beer glass; you raised yours in kind. “Cheers to you, killer.”  
  
“_Kanpai_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now. I’m not saying that [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTTrQrou2cI) is the song from the boss battle. I’m not saying that. But I am saying that when I conceptualized and wrote that scene, that was the song I had in mind. And the game itself, I took a lot of inspiration from the Legendary Heroes arc, which I actually really loved.
> 
> As always, if you're liking what you're seeing and you'd like to be a little more behind the scenes, give [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com) a follow! I post memes and art, and I am occasionally funny.


	7. Another Code Against the Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _   
[The explosion that destroyed our city…was nothing compared to what’s now happening to those that survived.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwSMULcE7t8)   
_
> 
> TW for severe panic attack.

True to their word, when everyone had had their fill of drink and merriment, Kitagawa called his secretary and arranged for the cars to take your party back to the hotel when all had decided the night was over. Somehow, although you found yourself nodding off after a certain point, Date and Kitagawa kept their energy, and as they waved you off you watched them make their way back into the host club, chattering excitedly.  
  
The streetlights flashed by in a blur on the drive back to the hotel, and you felt your head begin to loll to one side, eventually coming to rest against Jennifer’s, who seemed to also be finding it difficult to keep fully upright. The both of you dozed lightly against each other in this way until the car stopped and the driver coughed once to announce your arrival.  
  
The men had managed to get out of the car, but were similarly woozy, and using the same spirit of teamwork that you had in the virtual world of the game, you each supported the other in making your way back into the hotel and safely back to everyone’s respective rooms. Entirely ignoring the intentions of the KaibaCorp administrator who had arranged their separate rooms, either through her drunkenness or her disdain, Jennifer remained firmly clasped to Richard’s hand, eyes closed as she allowed him to lead the both of them back to his suite.  
  
The two exited the elevator, and Justin fixed a bleary eye on you, squeezing the other shut. “Gonna be all right on your own?” There was the bubbling undercurrent of a laugh in his tone, and from this you could hear that he was far drunker than he was letting on. Aside of Jennifer, Justin was the most likely to let the liquor sneak up on him, but he was stubbornly holding himself erect, holding the door to the elevator in wait of your assurance.  
  
You nodded, flashing both him and Dale a smile. “Oh yeah, I can make it the one floor,” you laughed, waving a hand in dismissal.  
  
This seemed good enough for him, and he cracked a smile as well, lurching a bit as he moved. “Word. Am I gonna be all right?” His feet scuffed against the carpet, which was apparently funny, as both you and he giggled in response as he straightened himself.  
  
“I think you’ll make it,” you said indulgently. “Night, guys.”  
  
Dale looked at you sidelong. “Sure you’re good?”  
  
A short _ha_ of a laugh erupted from your mouth, and you waved your hand again. “Oh yeah, gonna be just fine.” You leaned your weight against the wall of the elevator, watching with some fascination as the doors attempted to close but retreated at the resistance from Justin’s hand. You wished the light was less bright.  
  
“S’all right, I can walk you to your door.” Dale shifted, pressing the button to close the doors, and reaching to dislodge Justin’s hand.  
  
You had already opened your mouth and begun to answer, the words “Oh no,” halfway tumbled out of your mouth to demur, but then a flurry of movement happened very suddenly, and before you were sure what was happening Dale was falling forward and both he and Justin landed in the hall with an indelicate _thump_.  
  
“Oh, what the fuck, Justin!” Dale barked, pushing himself upright, disentangling his legs from Justin’s, who seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious, laughing as he straightened to a seat on the carpet.  
  
“Sorry man!” he made out through gasps of laughter, pressing a hand to his chest to restrain himself, gently bringing a finger to wipe a tear that had made its way from the corner of his eye. “Just tryna getcha outta the elevator.”  
  
Awkwardly frozen halfway to action, you brought your hands down uncertainly from where they reached to help. “All right?”  
  
As Dale shifted to his knees and dusted himself off, looking murderous, Justin laughed once more and flashed you a cheerful thumbs up. “For sure! That much closer to the rooms!” He gestured unnecessarily, and began laughing anew when Dale brought himself to his feet and stalked to his room. Waving a hand in the air, Justin smiled a rueful smile at you. “Wouldn’t mind a hand, actually, now you mention.”  
  
Laughing, you hauled him to his feet and stabilized him, gently ushering him to his door and bidding him a safe journey to the bed. He saluted brightly with two fingers, then promptly tumbled into the room, shutting the door gracelessly behind him.

* * *

The arrival of morning was not kind. Although the drapes were heavy and your suites were quite high up, you could still sense the sun peeking through and the bustle of traffic in the street hundreds of feet below, and it brought your hackles up immediately.  
  
You could feel the insides of your eyes burning, little pockets of acid seeping into your temples.  
  
Dragging yourself from the bed into the bathroom was a journey you were not certain you had any right making, but once you reached the shower you peeled your clothing off and sat under the steaming stream until the throb in your head ebbed somewhat and you were able to wash properly. Though it could not be said you felt better upon leaving the shower, you were sure you had reached the threshold of functional.  
  
Brushing your teeth and dressing were equally arduous affairs, but eventually you had gotten yourself together in a way that passed for appropriate. You threw a coat on and left the room, hesitating before Jennifer’s door as you remembered that she had stayed with Richard. With a heavy sigh, you turned on your heel and headed for the elevator.  
  
As your finger hit the button to call the elevator, the light above the doors dinged chipperly, and you stepped back as the doors began to open. To your surprise, the team had already packed inside, and were in varying states of composure. Despite having been the worst off at evening’s end, Jennifer appeared the most pert and ready, and only the large sunglasses on her face belied her state.  
  
You greeted everyone warmly, and sidled into the center of the group. Looking only slightly more frayed than Jennifer, Dale nodded a greeting to you, and handed you the spare coffee cup that he carried. You sniffed it daintily before taking a sip, the warmth spreading blessedly through your chest.  
  
“I could kiss you right now,” you told him, taking another grateful sip, closing your eyes in relish. He did not respond, simply tugging the brim of his hat further over his eyes.  
  
Richard glanced around the elevator compartment as though doing a headcount. “We all good? Limbs and extremities accounted for?”  
  
“I mean, I’d have to check, can you turn around and give me a sec?”  
  
“Justin.”  
  
He laughed brightly, tossing his head back; though the rest of the elevator ride passed in silence, it occurred to you that it could have been a much more miserable, awkward silence without that brief burst of energy. You glanced over your shoulder at him, and he winked at you, giving a half smile over the rim of his own coffee cup.  
  
As the elevator slowed near the ground floor, Richard advised everyone that Chiba and Matsubara would be waiting for them at the train station with their private pass. “I’ll be interested to see how this train runs,” he said pointedly, shooting a meaningful glance at you.  
  
You tensed somewhat at the memory of discovering the advertisements for the new bullet train, taking an anxious sip of your coffee as everyone exited the elevator into the shining lobby, and then out into the brisk winter sun.  
  
The walk to the train station was a short one, by design you supposed – it made sense to post up business partners in a hotel nearby to a train station if you own both of them. Chiba and Matsubara awaited your party just inside the doors; this time their excitement to see everyone seemed genuine, though their smiles still did not quite reach their eyes. Apparently according to Date and Kitagawa, they let it slip, your team had done well. You brow furrowed, but you said nothing to this; the tone made it sound as though this had been unexpected, a pleasant surprise, and that implied to you that it had been a test.  
  
You swallowed the last of your coffee and threw the cup away, following Chiba and Matsubara to the train platform.  
  
The jet, it seemed, wasn’t the only enormous machine that Kaiba had molded to his liking: sleek and white-gold, it carried all the same sharp curves as his other projects did, and Dale muttered under his breath that he would be surprised if the nose of the train was not distinctly head-shaped. Justin snorted and whispered a comment about the tail, and Richard shushed them in irritation.  
  
Your passes, Chiba explained, handing them to Richard for safe-keeping, granted you and everyone in your party unlimited access to a private business suite on the train for as long as your party was in Domino. She gestured for him to tap it on the turnstile for entry to the train compartment, and then again for access to the room.  
  
Predictably, the suite on the train was furnished in much the same way as the suites in the hotel, with dense blue carpet and largely white leather upholstered seats. You filed in and seated yourselves while Matsubara busied himself with the coffeemaker.  
  
Chiba, taking a seat and tucking her ankles beneath the chair daintily, outlined the day for you as the coffee machine buzzed to life: as a gentle transition from the night before into being welcomed by the company, you would be touring the virtual gaming facility. While there, she told you, you would get to see demonstrations of the newest games being worked on, if you chose, and you would get to meet the team who would be working on the project in the office in Domino.  
  
“And Date and Kitagawa, are they going to be involved at all in the project? Directly?” Justin asked, accepting the cup and saucer that Matsubara handed him, nodding his thanks but keeping his eyes on Chiba.  
  
“As with all things in the virtual gaming division, Date-_san_ and Kitagawa-_san_ will oversee the development of their selected team,” Chiba answered blithely, in her usual unhelpful manner.  
  
Richard cast a look at Dale, who adjusted his cap absently. “So it sounds like our team will be handling the brunt. We’ll need to make sure we deliver,” Richard warned.  
  
Dale nodded, flashing a simple _you got it_ thumbs up. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed, crossing his arms while Chiba continued to speak and zoning out, gaze focused on the porthole window.  
  
Perhaps as a way to fill the space, a trifle unnecessarily, Chiba and Matsubara took turns delivering the history of KaibaCorp to you. Tugging your coat more tightly around you and settling more deeply into the seat, you struggled to keep your eyes open through it; it felt similar to a museum tour, and your head began to ache. Glancing over at Jen, you saw that she was making good use of her sunglasses, taking full advantage of the cover they provided; her head listed to the side somewhat, and Richard shifted, subtly maneuvering her head against his shoulder.  
  
Justin, however, listened to the presentation with rapt attention, seated with his knees wide and his elbows resting atop them, cup and saucer clutched in hand. His expression was unreadable as they discussed the company’s (rather well-known, you thought) transition from martial to gaming technology.  
  
If you expected them to gloss over the family dynamic within KaibaCorp during a presentation like this, you were severely mistaken: as your party departed the train and made your way to the headquarters proper, Chiba cheerfully relayed the account, finishing with a bright declaration of, “And in the years Kaiba Seto-_sama_ has been the head of the company, he strives to ensure KaibaCorp remains a household name that no one has to be ashamed of saying.”  
  
At the statement, Richard snorted into his coffee and jerked somewhat, and Jennifer could not contain the laugh that escaped her lips. Similarly to his attention on the train, however, Justin’s expression remained fixated but distant, thoughtful, an odd streak of seriousness from him.  
  
You felt awash in nostalgia as you crossed the threshold of the KaibaCorp building – it had remained as-ever, a veritable Tetris-block Brutalist structure against the Domino skyline. Not for the first time, you felt a tug of regret at having tossed the prescription Dr. Tucker’s receptionist had given you, tuning Chiba out somewhat in favor of centering your breathing. Discretely, you pressed your fingers into a pulse point and checked your heart rate.  
  
Since KaibaCorp’s main draw was its Solid Vision technology, Matsubara told everyone, the virtual gaming division of KaibaCorp was considered its flagship – this is why it was housed in the main headquarters, as opposed to the housewares and smart technology divisions, or the physical gaming divisions, which called other cities in Japan their home.  
  
“And medical?” Richard asked pointedly.  
  
Smiling blandly, the question did nothing to break Chiba’s stride or rhythm. “Medical technology is not KaibaCorp’s main focus, and to my knowledge will not be involved in this project at all,” she said, smoothly taking the opportunity to transition to the subject of KaibaCorp’s current solo projects.  
  
In passing through the large open area where the developers worked, Chiba introduced you to a couple who did not seem occupied. They described, in fluctuating amounts of detail, what they had been working on: medieval adventures were out, they informed you when they learned of your teams adventures the night before, and pirates were in. They were proud to show you a simulation of the game they were trying to produce; their main hurdle, they explained, was forcing the water to behave as it would in real life.  
  
“The sea is a cruel mistress, my dudes,” Justin told them sympathetically, clapping one on the shoulder.  
  
The two men nodded sagely, and repeated “A cruel mistress,” in unison, before bowing and returning to their work.  
  
Justin scanned the room thoughtfully as you wended your way through it. “Seems like you guys run a tight ship, but the dedication is incredible.” He shot a look at Dale. “What I gotta do to get you guys to be this way?” he teased.  
  
Dale’s shoulders stiffened, but otherwise his posture remained unchanged. “You could start with benefits.” He kept his gaze focused on drifting between the groups of developers as they worked, watching the screens with interest, but you could see the comment bothered him, despite his joking response.  
  
You reached a hand out, fingers grazing his elbow somewhat, but before you could say anything, Jennifer flipped the sunglasses up from her face and nestled them into her thick mane of hair. “You can shut all the way up, Justin. We wouldn’t be here if it weren't for Dale and his team,” she snapped.  
  
Shifting his glance back toward you at your light touch, you smiled warmly at Dale. “She’s right, the renderings you guys have provided of the monsters are gorgeous,” you added.  
  
Dale paused, then nodded at the comment, pulling his arm away from your reach to adjust his cap on his head.  
  
Beaming, Chiba interjected, “Your heart is in the cards.” It was the second time you had heard someone say the phrase to your group, and you still remained uncertain if it held any disdain. Her expression as blank as ever, you didn’t think Chiba would be the person to determine that information.  
  
She led you through various areas of the building in this way, as though you were simply a tour group, describing points of interest and the history behind the location, fun-facts and tidbits. As she led your group into one hallway, she exclaimed a soft, “Ah!” at the sight of a dark-haired man wearing an expensive-looking suit walking briskly toward the elevator.  
  
“Mokuba-_sama_!” she called, and the man paused mid-stride and turned to face you.  
  
“Shiori,” he greeted, shooting her a crooked grin. He glanced at your group with interest, stormcloud eyes moving across everyone individually. “Not new hires?”  
  
She bowed deeply to him, despite his informal tone with her. “No, Mokuba-_sama_. These are the Americans.”  
  
This struck the right note, and realization dawned on his face immediately. “Ah! Date has told me a lot about you! You guys killed at Duel Monsters Quest.” Before anyone had a chance to preen at the praise, Mokuba jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You’re in luck, _nii-sama_ is doing some testing right now on the newest Duel Disk – come watch! I’ll take it from here, Shiori, you can take the rest of the day if you want,” he said to her, waving a hand.  
  
She bowed her exit, and your group followed Mokuba to the elevator.  
  
“You’re working on another version of the duel disk? How many does that make?”  
  
The tone in Justin’s voice wasn’t quite curiosity, though you couldn’t quite pin it – Mokuba, though, seemed to take it for disdain, and snorted. “You can’t stop working on something just because you think it’s done. That’s how you get left behind,” he said, pressing the button for the appropriate floor. As the elevator swung smoothly into motion, he continued, “_Nii-sama_ thinks that the more we can develop the Duel Disk, the more everything else will follow.”  
  
“Is that why he tests them himself?” Jennifer asked with some interest.  
  
Crossing his arms over his chest, Mokuba canted his head. “In part. He’s the one who knows best what it should look like when it’s working optimally, and what it looks like when it isn’t, but there’s more to it than that.”  
  
He shook his head as though to clear it. “A while back there was a defect that slipped through, and when we had to recall a bunch of that model, _nii-sama_ was pretty mad. He said it shouldn’t have happened, and that that level of quality was unacceptable, and that if he had to do it himself then he would.” Mokuba shrugged a shoulder. “He’s been running the tests himself ever since.”  
  
Richard raised his eyebrows, sharing a glance with Jennifer. Justin cocked a brow and let out a low whistle. “Real altruistic guy,” he commented.  
  
Once again, Mokuba seemed to detect a tone of hostility, and his eyes flashed at Justin. “_Nii-sama_ would never let something into the world if it was going to hurt someone,” he said, his words the most polite version of a snarl.  
  
Justin’s brow raised a mite higher, but he said nothing. You nudged him gently with your elbow as the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened to let everyone out; he met your eyes and nodded, taking the cue to leave it be.  
  
“This way.” Mokuba led your party down the hall, turning once before swiping his keycard at a pair of glass double-doors. He ushered your group inside and let the doors glide shut behind him, striding past into a large room nestled with computer stations along the walls, with an open area before a huge paneled window. Down in the room below stood a solitary figure in a long coat, as still as the emptiness around him.  
  
It was different seeing him in person. Sure, you had seen photographs of him over the years in various magazines, and he had appeared during the Skype call where he certainly cut a stony figure, but actually seeing him, physically, in person was _different_.  
  
Though he was still all long, lean lines, he had filled out, losing a lot of the awkward lank of his teenage years, and you wondered at how someone already so imposing could become even moreso. What had changed little were his eyes – certainly, there were lines around them that had not been there before, but the flash, the cool fire that crackled in them was the same, and he held himself with the same posture, the same disaffected cant of his hips.  
  
In spite of yourself, you felt your breathing began to shallow. You attempted a deep breath to calm yourself, and found yourself hiccoughing slightly instead, teetering on the verge of hyperventilating very rapidly. You held your breath and squeezed your eyes shut, counting to five, hoping it was enough.  
  
Luckily, everyone’s attention was firm on Kaiba in the sleek, sterile grey testing room below, and what little attention paid to you was an excited pat on your shoulder as Justin called, “Come closer, come look! Ah, dude, this is awesome!”  
  
You set your jaw, and remained where you stood, hovering just outside of the group that gathered near the window of the gallery with your hands clasped tightly in front of you.  
  
A team of assistants in white coats typed furiously at their stations, while Mokuba took a seat at an empty station, pulling up screens and screens of graphs and statistics. He tapped a button on his lapel, and called out, “_Nii-sama_, levels are looking good. Temperature is a couple degrees high, but we’re gonna blast the room real quick.”  
  
A short nod was the only indication Kaiba heard his brother before a burst of chill erupted in the room, frosting over the window to the gallery immediately. Dale stepped closer, holding up a hesitant hand to the window before the frost dissipated; he jumped back, and Mokuba snorted. “Heating panels,” he said, as though it were obvious. “_Nii-sama_, we’re ready.”  
  
Previously, Kaiba had been still as marble, but at the go-ahead he erupted into action, and a small blue pack attached to his wrist sprang to life with him. It unfolded neatly along his arm, and he tucked a delicate headset over the same ear.  
  
This drew murmurs from your team – they had seen pictures of the duel disk among a few pages of the briefing packet that had been waiting in the suites, but seeing it move was something altogether different.  
  
From the wall, a singular, spherical pod slid forth, locking into place. Along its hemisphere was a ridge, which expanded into what you had to assume was the droid’s playing field. It announced something in a polite voice, and the room reverted back to stillness again for the briefest moment.  
  
Then Kaiba shifted his stance, and drew his first card. “_Ore no taan_!”  
  
It was the second time you had heard him speak in years, and your already shallow breathing hitched at the familiar phrase. You felt your heart skip a beat, noticeably, and you gasped – it didn’t hurt, but the sensation drove a hand to your chest, and caused your brow to furrow into a helpless look. If your team noticed, they surely assumed it was a sound of awe at the enormous serpentine dragon that appeared, flexing its wings and letting out a terrific shriek, its fangs dripping. You felt your limbs begin to shake at the sight of a card the size of a rug being set facedown.  
  
“_Watashi no taan desu,_” the droid responded serenely, and set three cards before announcing the end of its turn.  
  
Kaiba announced his turn again and drew, and it was around this time that you began to feel your throat tighten. You scarcely noticed as he and the duel droid exchange quick play trap and magic cards, and you raised a hand to clutch your throat. You felt your mouth form a small _o_, struggling to control your breathing. The walls around you in the viewing gallery loomed in closer to you, tall and imposing, and without warning they disappeared, the sun flashing high in the sky before becoming dappled by dark clouds dense with crackling lightning.  
  
A gargantuan face bared exposed teeth at you in a ghastly smile, its enormous fingers reaching down from the dense black clouds. The wind whistled and curled around its arm, down its wrist and its palm as it clenched its hand into a fist. Your knees exploded in pain as you felt them come into contact with the white ceramic tile of the floor of the viewing gallery, and for that briefest of moment you were brought back to the present, aware that your heart was hammering wildly, painfully against your ribs.  
  
You couldn’t breathe.  
  
You felt hands on your shoulders, and you managed to make eye contact with the face before you before it melted into that same grotesque smile. Claustrophobic, you flailed an arm in front of you, desperately trying to make your way back to your feet, to regain some semblance of control over yourself.  
  
Faintly, you heard your name being called, but you weren’t certain if the hands at your shoulders were shaking you or if the ground beneath you was truly trembling, cracking, opening up through great jagged sheets of asphalt to swallow you.  
  
You couldn’t _breathe_.  
  
The impact of the huge fist knocked you back, and for the life of you, you weren’t certain who it was that screamed before you saw black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally see our boi in the flesh! For like. A solid half-second. I know it’s been a lot of world-building up until now, but we are about to get into the meat of the plot and the backstory with this next chapter. And Kaiba will be in every chapter moving forward, starting with this one, which we’ve all been waiting for, I know lmao.
> 
> Also I feel like now is the best and most appropriate time to announce that I’m going on vacation! Hooray! So if I don’t respond to your comments, it’s because I’m out of country, not because I suddenly decided I’m not interested in what you have to say. But don’t fear! I planned for this, and I have the next chapter written and formatted and ready to post immediately upon my return. 
> 
> Next chapter is the first of three duels, and while really fun, it is going to reveal _a lot_ of things and may be heavy in parts.
> 
> As always, thank you so much to everyone who left kudos on this work: KizmetSouFi, sopra, Chickenparm, and the guests; and thanks to everyone who chatted with me in the comments: 5_Stirling_Hearstrings, Gale, haise_leonheart, sakuchwan, and Scarletbelle87. You all are my lifeblood.
> 
> Also also, if you're liking what you're reading, head on over to my writing Tumblr, [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com) and give me a follow. It's mostly just memes and Kaiba-spamming right now, and a little bit of behind the scenes, but will probably become more substantial in the future. Thinking about a giveaway here in a few chapters.
> 
> **EDIT:** As of 30 December 2019, I've made a small change to this chapter. It might not seem like the change affects much, but it does.


	8. Drove Through Ghosts to Get Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I'm gonna ask you to look away...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAZEcg8NLtM)
> 
> TW: technically major character death, but they get better, I swear.

_The sun shone down in a truly profound way in the time that you had been in Japan, the air mild and the birds singing brightly as the final monster on your opponent’s side shattered and digitized into the air. Throwing his head back with a deep groan, he covered his face in his hands and sank to his knees.  
  
__[0 / 2700]  
  
__The small crowd that had gathered around you cheered somewhat, a buzzing chorus of _yosh!_ and _yatta!_ around you as you made your way over to him to collect his puzzle card and his rare card. You were absolutely giddy, and did your best to mask it to your fallen foe, but you were riding the high of a successful couple of days.  
  
__The tournament was going exceedingly well for you, and you couldn’t believe your good fortune. Of your duels, you had only summoned your Wicked Eraser during one duel, and had only been brought below 1000 life points in another. All things considered, easy.  
  
__You had been surprised and delighted when you found that your official KaibaCorporation ranking was a 6, high enough to qualify you for the free Duel Disk and entry into the Battle City tournament. But now that you had made decent progress, you started to wonder how the rankings were scaled: if you were a 6, and your opponents were at least a 5, did that mean that those who ranked a 7, or even a perfect 8 (if they even existed) would make as short work of you as you had of your opponents? Or was it that your opponents had only barely qualified?  
  
__Your opponent handed over his cards ruefully, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding your eyes as you squealed and thanked him, clutching the cards to your chest in your excitement. Though he had only spoken in Japanese during the duel – perhaps he didn’t have any English? your own Japanese was lacking – you were able to pick up that he thought you would be easy pickings, being 1) a foreigner and 2) a girl. By the time he had realized his mistake in judgement, it was too late for him to take you seriously; you’d never know if he actually was a better duelist than you.  
  
__You bowed to him slightly, and chirped a goodbye, swiveling on your heel and making your way back to the café you had begun to consider your homebase during your stay in Domino. Behind you, the couple of boys that had taken a fancy to you began to trail after you, chattering excitedly at each other. You weren’t certain how many other duelists in the competition had groupies, but the attention felt stellar. The two boys were of or around your age, if not slightly younger, and their enthusiasm for each of your victories bolstered your confidence significantly.  
  
__After the fight you had to put up to come, you needed the confidence boost, you thought. You parents, though supportive of you taking a gap year, hadn’t expected you to decide to pursue Duel Monsters. _It doesn’t make sense_, they told you often over dinner,_ the skills aren’t transferable, wouldn’t you rather go to France like your friends?_ And while, yes, you admitted, you would love to spend some time in France with your friends, meeting sexy French boys and drinking French wine like an adult, you reminded them that this was the agreement that you had made: if you stayed focused and graduated with good enough grades, they would allow you to participate in the same amount of Duel Monsters tournaments that you hadn’t been able to attend in high school.  
  
__They had attempted this conversation several times in the days leading up to the tournament, but you insisted firmly that you wouldn’t let them go back on their word. And even though they had expressed their displeasure all the way up to the departure gate, they allowed you to attend.  
  
__You sat at one of the outdoor tables with a coffee in hand, taking a dainty sip and trying not to grimace; you hadn’t had much coffee before you graduated either, but you were determined to enjoy it. Barely able to contain your excitement, you dug the puzzle cards and rare cards that you had collected out of the sleek stainless steel card case your father had given you, spreading them out on the table to admire them as a group.  
  
__One of the boys plopped himself into one of the other seats at the table, while the other leaned against the short metal fence surrounding the patio. They both awed at your prowess, and you beamed.  
  
__“Which card did you win this time?” The boy seated, whose name you remembered was Koichi, asked, leaning forward with interest, his dark hair falling into his eyes somewhat.  
  
__Absently sweeping the puzzle cards back into the case, a somewhat territorial gesture you had noticed yourself doing the more attention you got, you pushed the newest card toward him with a crooked smile on your face. “Exchange,” you said, taking another bitter sip of your coffee.  
  
__“Aahhh, _sugoi_, this is a good card,” he announced, crossing his arms and nodding his head decidedly. The other boy, Shigeru, mirrored the action. “You can use the other man’s card against him.”  
  
__You laughed, plucking it up from the table and slipping it with the puzzle cards. “I guess. It doesn’t really suit my deck, though. I don’t need the other guy’s cards.”  
  
__Shigeru glanced at you, then shifted his gaze to the throng of people moving about in the square. “You say that, but it might be useful to you later. It is a good addition to your deck.”  
  
__Laughing again, you simply said, “We’ll see,” with no intention whatsoever to add it. It would look just fine in a frame with the rest of the ante cards you had gotten; as far as trophies go, it would do.  
  
__As you considered your prizes, a current had begun to run through the people in the area. It seemed to start from a side street, a low buzz passing from person to person, until finally it reached your companions, who tensed. You finally noticed when Koichi stood, and leaned against the railing next to Shigeru, whose posture had turned slightly aggressive.  
  
__“_Nee_ Kaiba!”  
  
__Your head jerked up, and you saw him: coat billowing behind him although the breeze was slight, the late afternoon sun framed his silhouette in a sheen of gold light. Everything from his gait to the set of his shoulders to the cast of his eyes was rigid and sharp, and you let yourself be awed. _This is what a duelist looks like,_ you thought.  
  
__Kaiba scarcely paused his stride at Koichi’s shout, but did shoot him a cursory glance, and this was all the invitation Koichi needed. “_Nee_ Kaiba,” he called again, his tone becoming a distinct taunt as he switched into Japanese. “Now that you’re faced on all sides, not so big, huh? Just a regular guy like the rest of us.”  
  
__Kaiba scoffed, stopping several yards from the café, crossing his arms. His Duel Disk glinted in the sunlight. “I could take every duelist here at once. What’s the matter?” he returned, “_Bonkotsu_ couldn’t qualify, so you have to run your mouth to your betters? Tuck your tail between your legs and run.”  
  
__This riled Koichi, whose hackles rose and he put a foot on the fence, leaning forward aggressively – before he could shout something back, Shigeru laughed, turning to face Kaiba. “You’re lucky we’re not duelists, Kaiba, we’d kick your ass – but we don’t need to, ‘cause sooner or later you’ll have to face her.”  
  
__As Shigeru jerked his thumb over your shoulder, you froze completely, the high you had been riding from your victories draining from your body, completely overtaken by a cold mortification.  
  
_Wait.  
  
_He couldn’t mean you.  
  
__He couldn’t.  
  
__Kaiba’s eyes flicked to you, and you felt yourself pinned to your seat. “Her? She can’t even get the stupid look off of her face. She’s right to be terrified of me, and you should take her example. Even a rabbit’s smart in the presence of a dragon.”  
  
_Wait, no.  
  
_This couldn’t be going the way that it was, you told yourself in dumb horror, finally snapping your jaw shut. But as Shigeru guffawed a short, “She isn’t scared of you! She’ll take you down right here!” you realized that every second was truly occurring.  
  
__Kaiba threw his head back and barked a short laugh, returning his eyes to you. “She can’t even speak for herself.” He clenched a fist in front of his chest then swept the same arm aggressively. “With my perfect deck, she wouldn’t last three turns.”  
  
__The heat began to rise in your face, blood flooding your neck and cheeks. Koichi and Shigeru immediately jumped to your defense, bragging loudly, “She’s already got five puzzle cards, all she’d need to do is knock you into the dust and move onto the finals.”  
  
__That caught Kaiba’s attention, and his expression changed into something you couldn’t read. “Is that so?” Abruptly, his posture shifted and his stance widened. Before you could truly comprehend what was happening, he had extended his arm and the blade of the Duel Disk swiveled around, locking into place and lighting up the sensors. “Then let me show you how small you are!”  
  
__Intermittent passers-by had already begun pausing to watch the scene as Koichi and Shigeru shouted at Kaiba, but now that Kaiba himself had initiated a challenge an audience started to form in earnest, eager to watch the duel, murmuring amongst themselves. You heard little of their comments, but you did hear snickers, and a few of the same remarks your previous opponent had called to you: you were a foreigner, you were a girl, he was Kaiba Seto, and you stood no chance.  
  
__You heard someone repeat that you wouldn’t last three turns, and that was the switch that flipped in you.  
  
__Irritation replaced humiliation, and you began to feel an indignant rage bubble up in your chest. No matter what your parents or your friends at home said, no matter what your previous opponents said, you deserved to be here, didn’t you? You had qualified, you had made the trip, and you had already collected five puzzle cards out of the six. While this wasn’t the way you had daydreamed meeting a legend like Kaiba Seto, a righteous fury determined that you didn’t care anymore.  
  
__Beating the arrogant out of him would suit you just as well.  
  
__“Don’t cry when I knock you out of your own tournament, Kaiba-_san_,” you said finally, activating your Duel Disk and rising, sliding your deck into its slot as you joined him in the square.  
  
__“DUEL!”  
  
__[4000 / 4000]  
  
__You took the initiative, and drew first, announcing your turn with a level, “_Watashi no taan_.” All things considered, your opening hand wasn’t bad: making an early appearance was a card you had won earlier in the week, Patrician of Darkness. Since its effect was to redirect the battle as you chose, you tended to pair it with another card in your deck and the first card you had won in Battle City, though you didn’t see either in your initial hand. Patrician of Darkness required a tribute to summon though…  
  
__“I summon one monster facedown,” you called, “then I set one card from my hand, and I end my turn.”  
  
__It was a cautious first move, and Kaiba let you know he thought so with a scoff. “_Ore no taan_,” he called, his voice stilted with disdain. He spoke his moves only in Japanese, so you caught little – you supposed it was probably a way to psych you out, as you knew he could have conducted the duel entirely in English with no difficulty – but from the cards that appeared in front of him you could figure it out.  
  
__He had summoned a monster facedown, then set two cards.  
  
__You stifled a smile, and resisted the urge to shit-talk. You had done well with that part of the etiquette, not least of which because your vocabulary was lacking in that department – a small part of you hoped that even if you knew what to say, your upbringing would have prevented it. You could only imagine the look on your parents’ faces if they heard the way some of these duelists spoke to each other.  
  
__You drew your next card, and did not stifle this smile. Royal Oppression. Though the trap card required life points every time to activate, it prevented special summons. Kaiba’s strategies were world famous; he was the wielder of the three Blue Eyes White Dragons, and because under the new rulebook they required two tributes apiece, he would clearly favor special summons. If you played your cards right, you could stop him in his tracks.  
  
__First though…  
  
__“I flip summon my facedown monster, Princess of Tsurugi!” A lean, tan girl in a pink robe sprang forth, the icicles from hanging from her hat jingling a threat as she twirled more icicles between her fingers; finally, she tossed a volley of them, which hit Kaiba squarely in the chest.  
  
__He flinched slightly, and frowned as his life points lowered.  
  
__[3500 / 4000]  
  
__“Thanks to Princess of Tsurugi’s flip-effect, you immediately lose 500 life points, Kaiba-_san_,” you called, allowing yourself the smallest of smirks. “Now, let’s take care of your facedown monster!”  
  
__The Princess of Tsurugi launched another volley of deadly sharp icicles, and they embedded themselves into the back of his monster card. The monster digitized to life in a swirl, and you scowled; first at the fact that the attack hadn’t destroyed the monster, and then when you saw the little banded chrome jar that swiveled unblinking eyes on you.  
  
__“Activate Cyber Jar’s effect!” Kaiba shouted, smirking when both the Cyber Jar and your Princess of Tsurugi disintegrated with a small explosion. Even though he called the rest in Japanese, you knew what the card did: for both you and him, of the top five cards in your deck, whichever were level-4 or lower monsters would be summoned to the field.  
  
__While it was beneficial for you as well, you frowned as his field began to populate with monsters: Lord of Dragon would be a problem, and Ancient Lamp as well, and you would need to get Royal Oppression onto the field as soon as possible; Blood Vorse had high attack points, and so did Kaiser Seahorse.  
  
__You felt a pang of self-consciousness as your own monsters appeared: although they were a beloved part of your deck, they were all significantly weaker than his. _That’s stupid_, you shook your head, _Kaiba knows it isn’t all about attack power_, you thought; but when he laughed and you heard the words “_kisama no monsutaa_” you felt your hackles rise.  
  
_Well then.  
  
_You surveyed quickly: Dreamsprite would serve a similar function until you could get Patrician of Darkness onto the field, and Queen’s Double would be able to attack directly. Unhappy Maiden was the weakest of them, but she could end his battle phase. Your gaze landed on Green Phantom King, and you smiled softly: your parents had given you that card, and his wife Queen of Autumn Leaves, before you left to remind you of them while you dueled.  
  
_All right, dad. Watch this.  
  
_“It’s still my battle phase, Kaiba-_san_!” you shouted, and he ceased laughing with a bemused smirk. “Queen’s Double, attack his life points directly!” A veritable twin to your earlier Princess of Tsurugi, the redheaded woman in a blue coat flicked a series of ice knives, sticking themselves into Kaiba’s chest with a _thuck_ sound.  
  
__[3150 / 4000]  
  
__“Then, I tribute Green Phantom King to summon Invitation to a Dark Sleep!” Swirling to life in a flash of a dark cloak and hat, the eye on the creature’s forehead gleamed ominously, and the smirk fell from Kaiba’s face when his Blood Vorse let out a soft, woozy groan and fell to one knee. “While this guy’s on the field,” you explained, “any monster of my choice cannot attack – your Vorse Raider won’t be much good to you, Kaiba-san. Finally, I set one card facedown, and I end my turn.”  
  
__Although it would have been helpful sooner, Royal Oppression would be available to activate next turn, and you felt more comfortable with Invitation to a Dark Sleep on the field. You didn’t want to count your chickens before they hatched, but the match had begun well for you; all you had to do was keep your head.  
  
__Kaiba called his turn and drew. He continued only speaking in Japanese, so you very nearly missed it, but he didn’t reach for any cards from his hand – he was using Ancient Lamp’s effect to summon La Jinn.  
  
__Before the monster would finish being summoned, you pressed the button on the Duel Disk to activate your trap card. “Hold it! I activate the trap card Royal Oppression! By paying 800 life points, you can’t special summon – say goodbye to La Jinn!”  
  
__[3150 / 3200]  
  
__Kaiba _tsk_ed his irritation, but waved it off. “Fine. I activate Shrink on Blood Vorse!” As he spoke and the magic card rose from its facedown position, the great slumbering raider began to grow smaller, and you watched its attack points halve.  
  
__You had a hunch this was coming. “I activate my other trap card, Kaiba-_san_!”  
  
__Before he could activate his facedown card, almost certainly his Crush Card Virus, you pressed the button on your duel disk, and a rapid whirlwind scattered dust and debris around you as his second set card was destroyed. “Dust Tornado allows me to destroy one magic or trap card on your side, and set one of my own.” You slotted the card in and could not resist a barb: “There we go. You may continue now, Kaiba-_san_.”  
  
__Clearly unused to his combos being interrupted, Kaiba clenched a fist in front of himself. “Then you’ll have nothing to stop me from destroying your pathetic monsters!” he growled, sweeping his arm to call out, “Lord of Dragon, attack – “  
  
__“Unhappy Maiden,” you interrupted primly, ignoring the flustered look on his face. “Due to Dreamsprite’s effect, I can redirect your attack. Lord of Dragon will attack the Unhappy Maiden.” The blue faerie waved a delicate arm in the air, and iridescent teal and lilac bubbles appeared to cloud Lord of Dragon’s vision. The monster blinked, and shook its head in confusion, its eyes glowing strangely.  
  
__A cruel laughed pealed from Kaiba’s lips. “It might as well be a direct attack, that card has no attack power. Are you so ready to lose? I’ll make the end quick – Lord of Dragon, attack the Unhappy Maiden!”  
  
__Baleful eyes raised from dirty hair, and the Unhappy Maiden made only the briefest eye contact before she shattered and faded into the air. You gasped loudly, feeling an intense cavity of pain deeply within your chest; it took a great deal of focus to remain on your feet. It was more than simply the wind being knocked from you; it _hurt_. Every duel had so far, and you had chatted with other duelists about it, noticing the way they gushed about the enhancement of the Solid Vision technology. You came to the conclusion that perhaps you were just sensitive.  
  
__[3150 / 2000]  
  
__When the dots faded from your vision and your lungs filled again, you smiled weakly. “Not too quick, Kaiba-_san_. Thanks to the Unhappy Maiden’s sacrifice, your battle phase has ended. You’ll have to wait just a bit longer, I’m afraid.”  
  
__However it was that he expected his turn to progress, it was not like this – though his face was carefully blank, you could swear you saw a muscle in his jaw tick when he set one card facedown and ended his turn.  
  
__“Excellent. Now we can really get started. I sacrifice Dreamsprite to bring Patrician of Darkness to the field!” The gentle blue fae dissipated in the afternoon light, and a burst of bats brought forth a swirling dark cloak. With a flash, the cloak swept aside, and the ashen vampire bared a toothy grin at your opponent. “And since you wanted a battle so badly, Kaiba-_san­_, I’ll give you one – Patrician of Darkness, attack Kaiba-_san_’s Vorse Raider!”  
  
__The vampire offered another smirk before leaping into the air in a great sweep of wings, tiny bats fluttering from under its cloak. You flinched somewhat as it came down and sank its teeth solidly into Blood Vorse’s thick neck; the first time you had seen Patrician of Darkness’s attack was outright shocking, but now that you had seen it move more than once it was simply unsettling. For everything else a person could say about Kaiba Seto, Solid Vision looked _real_.  
  
__“And since Vorse Raider is no longer on the field, I’ll use Invitation to a Dark Sleep’s effect to keep Kaiser Seahorse from attacking. I’ll get to him next turn.” The duel was going so well for you that you couldn't resist the wink you gave, despite your determination not to be a sore winner – the expression that crossed Kaiba’s face as his Kaiser Searhorse took a knee, snoozing gently against its trident, was well worth it.  
  
__“I will, however, attack you directly with Queen’s Double.” The robed woman flipped an ice knife deftly, once again showering a volley into Kaiba’s abdomen. Though it probably hurt only little, he rubbed the spot with an irritated hand.  
  
__[1700 / 2000]  
  
__“Finally, I’ll set this card from my hand, and end my turn.” You smiled prettily. “The floor is yours, Kaiba-_san_.”  
  
__His face began to flush with color, and his eyes sparked at your taunting. You were certain that he had heard worse from whichever other duelists he had faced in the last few days, but he always presented such an unflappable façade – now, though, he seemed truly bothered, genuinely angry.  
  
__“_Ore no taan_!” He drew his card, perhaps a mite aggressively, and though the color left his cheeks, he narrowed his eyes, and his expression turned intense. “From my hand, I activate Card of Demise!”  
  
__You blinked in surprise as he announced the terms of the card – he had switched to English. Though it was possible he was simply doing it under the presumption you didn’t know the card – which would have been correct – you had been under the assumption that he had refused to speak to you in English as a way of confusing you, to psych you out.  
  
_Come to think…  
  
_His taunts and barbs had lessened as time went on, and he wore a look of focus – from the couple of televised matches you had been able to access in the US, you knew that he was not in the habit of going lightly on his opponents, not out of respect for their skills but as a display of his own power. It was his trash-talking that was his tell.  
  
__You felt a flutter of excitement in your gut, and a lightness in your chest – he was taking you seriously.  
  
__He had drawn his cards, and continued, “Now I activate the spell card Flute of Summoning Dragon. This card allows me – “  
  
__“Ah, ah, ah, Kaiba-_san_. I know what _that_ card does, but you might be forgetting my trap card.” The flute descended from the sky, but before Lord of Dragon could take hold of it and put it to its lips, the flute shattered. “I can pay 800 life points to prevent you from special summoning. You won’t be bringing your flock of dragons out this turn!”  
  
__[1700 / 1200]  
  
__“Is that so?” He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “I’ll commend you for getting this far – it’s twice as long as anyone would expect from a foreign _zako_. But you can’t prevent your loss any more than you can prevent an earthquake. Kaiser Seahorse can’t attack, but with its effect I can use it as two tributes for a Light attributed monster.”  
  
_Shit_.  
  
__“I tribute Kaiser Seahorse – come forth, Blue Eyes White Dragon! Lay waste to my enemies!”  
  
__The slumbering sea-warrior digitized gently into the air, and a great gust rushed forth – you shielded your eyes with your arm and squinted into the wind, and for the first time in your life you heard the shriek of the Blue Eyes White Dragon. The dust settled, and you found yourself craning your neck to meet the bright, sharklike eyes.  
  
__You felt a warmth in your chest and tears dotted your eyes.  
  
__It was _incredible_.  
  
__“Blue Eyes! _Horobi no_ – “  
  
__“I activate Invitation to a Dark Sleep’s effect!” The words tumbled from your mouth in a panic, purely out of your own self-preservation at watching the great white maw open and the ball of lightning begin to crackle. The eye on your dark creature’s forehead glowed, and the dragon flexed its wings before curling into an enormous ball and draping its long neck across the cobblestones, napping catlike in the center of the playing field. You began to shake lightly as adrenaline coursed through your system; a laugh bubbled in your throat from the relief.  
  
__Kaiba was very nearly apoplectic. In a move that you presumed was out of spite, he called his next command in Japanese again, but you were able to catch it this time: “Lord of Dragon, attack – “  
  
__“Don’t be rude, Kaiba-_san_! Due to Patrician of Darkness’s effect, as long as he is active on the field, then I get to choose where your attacks go – obviously, I choose for Lord of Dragon to attack Patrician of Darkness.” The vampire flicked its cloak from one shoulder, crossing its arms haughtily over its chest. Lord of Dragon leapt across the field, arms outstretched, and in a flurry of bats and smoke, Patrician of Darkness vanished, reappearing behind the other monster and sinking its teeth into Lord of Dragon’s neck.  
  
__The two monsters stood in this macabre embrace for a beat, and you wondered why nothing was happening. Surely the software wasn’t malfunctioning? You glanced over at Kaiba in alarm, unsure of what his reaction would be to his program bugging out during a tournament duel – his own, no less – and found that he had returned to a self-assured posture, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk firmly affixed on his face.  
  
__Slowly, very slowly, his facedown card rose, and you saw what it was.  
  
__Clone.  
  
__There was a small swirl of darkness, and you noticed with a start that there was a perfect copy of your Invitation to a Dark Sleep seated cross-legged, diminutive in the shadow of Kaiba’s slumbering Blue Eyes. As the eye on its forehead gleamed red, you realized what had happened.  
  
__Turning back to the battle, Lord of Dragon slipped out from under Patrician of Darkness’s grasp, and let the vampire slump forward, returning to Kaiba’s side of the field.  
  
__“You’re right,” he finally called, the words dripping disdain through his smirk. “This is a useful effect.”  
  
__Since he was unable to attack further, he set two cards facedown on his field and ended his turn. After using Card of Demise, it seemed he was eager to ensure the cards were put to use before he was forced to discard them.  
  
__Unfortunately, the same deadlock that had just saved you made it impossible to move forward. You surveyed the field briefly before you drew: Patrician of Darkness was your strongest card, and it was tied up by Kaiba’s Clone token, so it couldn’t attack; Queen’s Double could still attack Kaiba directly, but it would be whittling away at him turn by turn until he got bored and summoned another Blue Eyes.  
  
__It was a possibility, you reasoned: Flute of Summoning Dragon was meant to summon two dragons from the hand, so there was another dragon of some kind in his hand, and Blue Eyes was the most likely option.  
  
__Finally, your eyes rested on Invitation to a Dark Sleep, and you gnawed your lip: more than Patrician of Darkness, Invitation to a Dark Sleep was central to your strategy. Even larger monsters didn’t stand a chance against its effect, and it gave you time to build up an offense against them. But if Kaiba used his other monsters to summon something else…  
  
__You glanced at his Clone token. You hated to think about it, but if you had to move yours into attack position to eliminate both…  
  
__Kaiba grew impatient and shouted something you were certain was rude, a prompt to hurry up and take your turn. You sighed softly, closing your eyes. “_Watashi no taan_,” you said, drawing.  
  
__Your heart skipped a beat. Sword and Shield. You glanced sharply at the rest of your hand, and the two cards that you had already set: Blast With Chain and Snake Fang. All you needed was a monster that could attack, and a quick rustle through your hand lifted your spirits considerably.  
  
__“I summon the Hunter With 7 Weapons in attack position!” The tan, muscled man came forth from the card, rolling his shoulders and readjusting his load. “He may not look like much now, but with his effect, he gains 1000 attack points in battle against a type of my choosing. In addition, I activate Snake Fang from my field, lowering the defense of one of your monsters.”  
  
__The fang darted from the trap card and flew across the field, but before you could continue, Kaiba cut you off. “I activate the trap card Attack Guidance Armor! Your monsters’ effects won’t be able to save you from this, and even sleeping, my dragon hungers for battle – if your _zako_ Hunter wants to attack, it will have to attack Blue Eyes!”  
  
__“You know what, Kaiba-_san_? You read my mind,” you said mildly, continuing, “Because to continue my combo, I’ll use this magic card from my hand – Sword and Shield. This will swap the attack and defense points of our monsters until the end of the turn. Which is convenient, because that’s how long the Snak Fang will infect your Blue Eyes’ defense – did I not have the chance to say that? Additionally, Kaiba-_san_, I activate the trap card Blast With Chain and equip it to Hunter With 7 Weapons – although I suppose it’s eight now, isn’t it?”  
  
__You laughed lightly at your own bad joke, and at the sight of the chain and spiked rocket wrapping around the already overburdened arms of your Hunter atop the cursed armor Kaiba had activated on him.  
  
__“And as I mentioned, Hunter gains 1000 attack points during damage calculation against one type of monster. Since I’m obviously going to declare dragons, that puts him at…hang on.” You counted on your fingers, biting your lip in a show of concentration. “Let’s see, we lowered the defense, we swapped ‘em, we added Blast With Chain, then the thousand…that puts him at 2100 attack points, Kaiba-_san_. Which, it’s not much more, but it’s sufficient, since your Blue Eyes only has 2000 right now.”  
  
__You batted your lashes prettily at Kaiba. “I’ll take a 100 point win, I think. Hunter With 7 Weapons, attack Blue Eyes White Dragon!”  
  
__The Hunter heaved the chain up and dispelled it, the chain wrapping around the neck of the slumbering Blue Eyes; Hunter tugged sharply, and in that short second it was over, the great dragon shattering like glass in the sunlight.  
  
__“And to round out my turn nicely, Queen’s Double, attack Kaiba-_san_’s life points directly!”  
  
__[1250 / 1200]  
  
__“_Ore no taan_! From my hand, I activate Enemy Controller!"  
  
_Wait.  
  
_“By sacrificing Ancient Lamp and entering the proper combination – “  
  
_Wait no.  
  
_“Left, Right, A, B! I can control one of your monsters to sacrifice!”  
  
_No no no no no –  
  
_“Then, I activate Cost Down from my hand, which lowers the level of a monster permanently by two levels. Blue Eyes White Dragon, avenge your fallen brother!”  
  
__The wind picked up again at the flap of enormous wings, and you shielded your eyes again, deafened by the visceral cry. You searched your hand and field desperately, and felt a pang of relief that Invitation to a Dark Sleep was still on the field –  
  
__“I use my Clone token to attack your Invitation to a Dark Sleep!”  
  
__Before you could react, the two black-cloaked figures leapt at each other, grappling only for a split second before disintegrating into the air. Your jaw dropped.  
  
__“Now, Blue Eyes! Attack her Queen’s Double! _Horobi no _Burst Stream!”  
  
_Shit shit shit shit shit –  
  
_“I activate Patrician of Darkness’s effect! Blue Eyes must attack Patrician of Darkness!”  
  
__The great vampire leapt to action the moment Kaiba’s Clone token was destroyed, and in a cloud of bats and dark cloak appeared in front of your Queen’s Double. It lifted its head and faced the white beam of energy bravely before it, too, fell.  
  
__[1250 / 200]  
  
__Your vision dotted with dark spots and you dropped to one knee, feeling the electricity crackle in your veins, burning hot, agonizing. Tears streamed freely from your eyes, and you gulped air desperately, gasping and frantic. Across the field, you could see that Kaiba had returned to his smug posture, arms crossed and smirking, waiting for you to stand back up. Gritting your teeth, you rose, shaking your head as the world tilted sideways for the briefest of seconds.  
  
__Kaiba closed his eyes and his smirk widened. “Consider yourself blessed to survive two Blue Eyes, _zako_. Few make it this far, but you won’t survive much longer. I’ll give you time to compose yourself, and the honor of being destroyed by the strongest monster.” He leveled you with a glance, and the rage rose hot in your chest. “_Taan endo_.”  
  
__You tried very hard not to let his words get to you, but he was right. You were running out of options. Only Queen’s Double was on the field, and there was no chance of survival if nothing changed. You would be obliterated next turn for sure.  
  
__Uncertainly, you raised your hand, fingers hovering gently over your deck. Did it even matter? You weren’t even sure that there was one card that would be able to turn this around for you. The one in your hand certainly couldn’t be combined with your current circumstances. You squeezed your eyes shut, and the remaining tears spilled against your hand.  
  
__“Going to forfeit, _zako_?”  
  
__The tone in his voice drew you short. More than disdain, more than the condescension to which you had become accustomed during the course of the duel, he sounded incredulous. Disappointed. Were you going to forfeit…?  
  
_No. Out of the question._ You brought the heel of your hand up briefly to wipe the tears from your cheeks, and flashed a grin across the field. “Not a chance, Kaiba-_san_. _Watashi no taan_.” You drew your card and immediately began to laugh in relief.  
  
__“From my hand I activate Pot of Greed! This card allows me to draw two more cards from my deck!” Doing so immediately relieved the knot in your chest, and you felt somewhat overcome. Maybe you could just pull this off…  
  
__“I sacrifice Queen’s Double to summon one monster in facedown defense position. Then, I set one card facedown and end my turn.” You sent your gaze across the field, and locked eyes with your opponent. “Come at me, Kaiba-_san_.”  
  
__He regarded you for a moment, his face carefully blank, before smirking again, grunting a soft _hm_. “What a pathetic trap. The oldest trick in the book, and you think I’m going to be afraid? _Ore no taan_! Blue Eyes, attack her facedown monster! _Horobi no Burst Stream_!”  
  
__The great dragon extended its long neck, the ball of energy building between its fangs before firing, the energy crackling across the field and landing with a bright explosion on the back of your card. Dust and debris immediately scattered in the square, and both you and Kaiba lifted an arm to shield your eyes from the aftershock.  
  
__Eventually the dust settled, and Kaiba called something across the field. You couldn’t hear from the ringing in your ears, but you met his eyes, and gently lifted your lips into a grin.  
  
__[750 / 200]  
  
__Eliciting an exclamation of indignation, Kaiba glowered his shock at you. Before he could say anything, the earth began to tremor gently beneath your feet and slowly columns of cobblestones and asphalt rose, section by section, row by row, until finally your view of him was obscured by the great shining labyrinth.  
  
__“Labyrinth Wall absorbed your attack, Kaiba_-san_, and Mirror Wall halved your Blue Eyes’ attack power,” you explained coyly over the towering walls. “I don’t think Blue Eyes will be coming for me anytime soon.”  
  
__You heard him curse, and slightly more muffled by the acoustics of Labyrinth Wall, you heard him mutter something you were certain was rude before shouting that he was ending his turn.  
  
__You were saved for another turn, you thought idly, but if nothing changed you wouldn’t be able to pull off a win. He wouldn’t fall for attacking again, certainly – that was a hat trick, and you knew it. However, you had some security for the time being. It would, at the very least allow you to replenish your hand. You would have to be careful with summoning monsters, though, without Patrician of Darkness or Invitation to a Dark Sleep to back you up. They’d have to at least have 1600 attack, and there were few enough of them in your deck.  
  
__You drew, and your expression softened. Queen of Autumn Leaves. Now, when you most needed help, your mother was there. You allowed the card a fond smile.  
  
_You’re up, mom. Let’s show him what we’re made of.  
  
_“From my hand, I activate the magic card Warrior Returns Alive – this allows me to bring back one warrior type monster from the graveyard.” In a swirl of pixels, the blue-robed Queen’s Double returned to the field. “Then, I sacrifice Queen’s Double to bring out Queen of Autumn Leaves!”  
  
__There was stillness for a moment, then gently from the sky, kaede maple leaves began to fall, scattering on the ground; she emerged from the small pile like Venus from the surf, and you felt your chest swell with love as she arranged her robes neatly and leveled a regal glance in the direction of Kaiba’s field.  
  
__“Queen of Autumn Leaves, attack Kaiba’s Lord of Dragon!”  
  
__The pile of leaves she had risen from rustled in warning before raising into the air sharply and speeding over the walls of the labyrinth. A soft _whoosh_ of wind erupted, and you heard Kaiba call out a trap card, Negate Attack. You _tsk_ed, and ended your turn ruefully.  
  
__He announced his turn, and there was a moment of silence where you were uncertain what was happening. Then, abruptly, he began to laugh – deep, throaty, cruel laughter, and you shifted your stance uncomfortably. You had never heard such malintent from another person, and the sound from someone who was usually more vocal with his words was unsettling.  
  
__When the laughter ceased, Kaiba raised his voice and spoke in English to you over the walls. “We’ve played cat and mouse long enough – you might have been good enough to escape death thusfar, but no more. Prepare yourself, _zako_, you’re about to see god.”  
  
__More than the laughter, the aggressiveness, somewhat unhinged, sent a chill down your spine, and you felt a coolness in your chest. _What on earth is he talking about…?  
  
_“From my hand, I activate the spell card Silent Doom – this brings back my Blue Eyes White Dragon in defense position. Then, I use Flute of Summoning Dragon – “  
  
_Holy shit, he has two?_ You floundered somewhat, glancing desperately at your Royal Oppression. You didn’t have nearly the amount of life points left to activate it.  
  
__“ – to summon two dragons from my hand, Hyozanryu and the third Blue Eyes White Dragon.”  
  
__Very suddenly, Kaiba’s field filled with screaming dragons, and tangle of wings and tails and rage. All sets of intelligent, bright black eyes landed on you, and their roars deafened you, shaking your innards.  
  
__It seemed, though, that Kaiba was not yet done. “I tribute my three Blue Eyes White Dragons to summon the great god Obelisk!”  
  
_His what…?  
  
_The day thusfar had been a sunny and cloudless, a bright summer day, but immediately the sky turned dark as the three greatest dragons disappeared in a swirl of pixels, clouds hanging heavy, pregnant with lightning. A great bolt streaked to the ground, and Kaiba’s field erupted in a flash of light and a booming clap of thunder.  
  
__Before your vision cleared, you felt more than saw the monster’s arrival – if you had been asked to describe it, you weren’t sure you could. It felt like…like when you were three and you hid behind your mother’s skirt as your grandfather reached for you from his deathbed. It felt like…like your first car accident, as time had slowed, and you and the other driver met eyes and shared the panic within them. It felt like the deep exhaustion of putting your head in your father’s lap as you waited in the hospital lobby for visiting hours when your mother developed pneumonia.  
  
__But it was more than all of those combined, and more than sensations you hadn’t yet felt. You felt empty, and you felt a future of emptiness crash down on you in a great wave, pushing you down, down, and when the asphalt ground into your knees you realized you had fallen again.  
  
__Towering over the walls of your labyrinth, over the buildings and skyscrapers, well into the dark and stormy sky, Obelisk’s great face grinned down at you, ghastly and lipless and terrifying.  
  
__The blood rushed to your head and your heart pounded in your ears, and vaguely you realized Kaiba was still talking. You didn’t catch was he was saying, but Obelisk raised its huge fists, containing a struggling Lord of Dragon and Hyozanryu, and devoured them in a single bite. The walls of your labyrinth crumbled, and Queen of Autumn Leaves reached for you, briefly becoming the shape of your mother, and another great rush of emotions overcame you, an enormous sadness, and absurdly you wept at the thought of all the monsters that had to be sacrificed for this power.  
  
__Across the field, Kaiba stood, erect and proud, his arms crossed over his chest, great white coat billowing about him from the sheer force of energy. He was no longer laughing, and the look on his face was nothing but calm.  
  
__Time slowed around you, tears still streaking down your cheeks. This wasn’t how you wanted to go down. You refused. With a great amount of effort, you pushed a fist into the ground, grinding your jaw until you tasted copper. Shakily, slowly, you rose to your feet, eyes never leaving the monstrosity that filled the sky.  
  
__You met its eyes and lifted your chin, one final defiance.  
_

* * *

_You awoke to a gentle beeping and unfamiliar voices murmuring above you. Through your closed eyes you could feel the brightness of the lights, and chanced cracking one open only slightly. Sure enough, the overhead fluorescents were too much for you, and you hissed quietly, shutting your eye again.  
  
__The brief glance you had managed to get told you that you were in an unfamiliar room, and you began to panic somewhat, the soft beeping increasing its tempo urgently. The voices ceased, and you felt gentle hands on your shoulders, calming _shush_es and cooing reassurances near your ear.  
  
__Whatever they were saying to calm you, it didn’t help, and your throat tightened as the lights brightened even more behind your eyelid, flashing into threatening lightning quite suddenly before allowing the room to streak with darkness. You flailed in the bed, and the soft crowing voice called out something to another person in the room before you felt quite woozy.  
  
__There was blackness again.  
  
__When you woke again, the lights in the room were off, and you managed to peel your eyes open to surveille. The panic rose hot in your throat again, and you felt constricted by the blankets around your legs; with a wild thrash, you threw them off, your breath going from calm to panting with the one motion, and you looked around wildly.  
  
__Clean, white, blank.  
  
__IV attached to your arm, you noticed as you felt the sharp tug against your wrist; heart monitor beeping loudly; tinny announcements over the PA system.  
  
__Hospital?  
  
__As though summoned by your rising, a small group of uniformed people bustled into the room, and you only barely stifled the scream that bubbled in your throat. One carried a small syringe, and advanced toward the IV.  
  
_Strangers_, your mind writhed furiously.  
  
_Nurses, _you reasoned.  
  
__“Don’t,” you pleaded before the nurse could inject the contents of the syringe into the IV.  
  
__They exchanged a glance, but complied. One of them spoke into a walkie-talkie at her belt, then addressed you in a much softer tone.  
  
__“Do you know where you are?” She set her clipboard down on a bedside tray and approached you slowly. Despite the caution, your heartrate rose – you were sure that even if the heart monitor hadn’t announced it, they still would have noticed from the look in your eyes. She raised her hands in a gesture of peace. “Do you remember what happened?”  
  
__“I – “  
  
__Your eyes glazed as the room filled with dark clouds heavy with electricity, and your breath hitched as a lipless, grinning face hovered just outside the periphery of your vision. You whimpered somewhat, and heard the heart monitor reach a desperate crescendo.  
  
__“It’s all right,” the woman shushed you gently, her hands coming to rest firmly on your shoulders. She rubbed her hands up and down your biceps in a gesture you supposed was meant to be reassuring, but a voice in your head screeched _danger_ and you flailed an arm, trying to scoot away, your back hitting the wall in your attempt to escape.  
  
__The woman raised her hands again, but did not touch you. “It’s all right,” she repeated, not raising her voice from the soft tone. “You’re in the medical wing of KaibaCorporation in Domino City,” she told you calmly, her voice bordering on a soothing monotone. Her eyes never left yours as she spoke, and when yours began to drift she caught your attention again. “You are safe now, and you are being treated.”  
  
__“Treated for what?” Your throat stuck around the words, and your eyes began to dot with tears. “I remember – “ You stopped yourself, a low moan coming from your throat.  
  
__The woman calmed you again, and in a soothing voice began to explain what had happened: when you lost consciousness, a squad of medics had come for you to heli-vac you to a medical bay, where you currently were. Their examination was short, as it was immediately clear that you were suffering cardiac arrest, and from your Duel Disk’s diagnostics they were able to determine that it had shorted; this gave them a timeframe for how long you had been unconscious. Your Duel Disk, they continued, had been taken for examination.  
  
__Your heart, you were told, did not begin to start beating again until well after your arrival at the hospital, after attempts at resuscitation had failed.  
  
__“Failed? So I died,” you snarled.  
  
__A current passed through the small group as they all exchanged a look, but the woman kept her eyes on you stolidly. “When your heart began to beat again, we worked hard to ensure that there would be no lasting damage,” she responded, not answering the question.  
  
__“But I fucking died, right?” you snapped, your voice raising. The frame of your vision flexed and brightened and shifted, and suddenly the room was far too close. You heard a shriek and it was only when you noticed that you had flung the bedside table across the room that you realized the shriek was coming from you.  
  
__The group scattered, immediately jumping back into the hallway and calling for help. The woman dodged as well, grabbing her clipboard deftly and weaving out of the way of the IV stand as you threw that against the wall as well, shattering frame of the lifeless painting that hung there.  
  
Y_ _our screams increased as you allowed the miasma of rage envelope you, heaving everything within reach. Tears began to stream from your eyes and the dark clouds returned, a huge fist emerging, reaching, and you howled at it in earnest.  
  
_ _Finally, you found yourself spent and huddled on the bed, your forehead on your drawn-up knees, and you wept, alone in the dark room._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uggghhhh this one was such a _beast_. Duels are a lotta work, y’all. It was actually super fun to write, though, because I’m heckin’ digging getting back into the card game. Duel Links has been good practice, because I’m forcing myself to give the characters decks that they would use, not that I necessarily would – which is what I tried to do with RC. I wanted to avoid giving her my old deck from high school, and even my current deck. Additionally I put a lot of thought into the evolution of her deck – her first one isn’t necessarily good, and she’ll have slightly different decks as time goes on. I’m almost definitely going to write metas on her decks, because boy howdy I have got some Thoughts.
> 
> Also, I know some of the cards’ effects are not what they literally are on the card, but for each instance of deviation I’ve got an episode number for precedence. It’s easy to forget that the manga and the anime were usually released before the actual cards themselves; the cards are kinda OP in the source material.
> 
> I will not be apologizing for any of the puns in this chapter. I meant every one of them.
> 
> So I finished the episodes available on Crunchyroll, and holy god, the Doma arc is so silly???? Also, I’m noticing the writers love killing off Kaiba in their original content – he technically dies in both Virtual World and Doma. Although I suppose he does in Duelist Kingdom, too, but still. “Ugh, god, fine, I guess I’ll sacrifice myself to save humanity or whatever.” Sweet, grumpy boi. I was considering restarting the manga until Crunchyroll adds more episodes, but I think I’ll watch something else to avoid Yuugiou burnout.
> 
> Thanks as always to everyone who left kudos, PhantasmalObscenity and guests; and to 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, Gale, and ScarletBelle87 for your comments! I promise I'll respond to them here shortly!
> 
> And again as always, if you care to see a little more behind the scenes, please give my writing blog [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com) a follow! There are memes and YGO spamming, this chapter has a bonus song or two, and here coming up I'm thinking of doing a giveaway or two, depending.


	9. Think of Me as a Time of Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tried too hard and I always say, the days are grey and the nights are black...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLUFIwiJafY)

She had been acting strangely for a while now. Jen wasn’t willing to admit it, or was simply writing it off as stress, but Richard wasn’t convinced. Ever since the night out, she had been…off. Skittish, nervous, she had started zoning out quite a bit more often, and was snappish and hostile when her eyes refocused. Wherever she was returning from, he thought, she didn’t like it.  
  
As he leapt into action when she first fell to her knees, Richard felt an inappropriate instinct stir, deep in the subcockles of his heart. Meeting Jen’s eyes as he caught their friend, Richard only felt the feral urge to say, “_I fucking told you._"  
  
Jen wouldn’t have listened even if she were paying attention, he thought; as soon as they lowered her to the ground, Jen began administering basic medical checks: pulse, breathing, does she have a concussion?  
  
It became easier to discover the answers to these questions as she came to. Her breathing was thready, eyes glassy, and she wobbled a bit as she attempted to stand and failed. She held a hand out, waving off assistance, absurdly insisting that she was fine with a weak laugh that did absolutely nothing for her case.  
  
“You are not fucking fine,” Richard snapped, frustrated that he even had to say it. The entire team had been treating him as though he were overreacting for weeks, and his patience was wearing mighty fucking thin. “She is not fine, we need to take her back to the hotel, if not the fucking hospital,” he said, hoping his tone was sufficiently firm; he sincerely did not want to have to lose his shit in front of strangers. He preferred to avoid it, as a general rule, but that did not mean that he wouldn’t if he absolutely fucking had to.  
  
“Agreed.” Justin knelt in front of her, canting his head and inspecting her with some caution. “What’s going on there, killer? Can you stand?” He held out a hand, which she took, and together Justin and Richard gently helped her to her feet. She swayed somewhat, leaning into Richard’s hands.  
  
She began to open her mouth again, and Richard felt a flare of irritation rise in his chest. “Don’t fucking say you’re fine. We’re taking you to the hotel, and we’ll figure out where to go from there.” He glanced at his fiancée. “Jen, help me out here.”  
  
The dark-haired man called Mokuba, who had been barking orders in Japanese into his lapel, nodded at them. “I’ve got a medic on his way to her suite now. Whatever the problem is, he’ll take care of her.”  
  
She laughed again, an unconvincing, watery sound. “You are all being _so silly_. I’m telling you, I’m completely – “  
  
“Fucking stupid.” He was about to lose it, he swore to god. “Jen, let’s go. Justin, Dale, stay here, finish out the demo and all, we’ll meet you at the restaurant for dinner.”  
  
“Actually, Dick, I think I should stay,” Jen said, her tone wholly dismayed. She gestured at herself. “Legal. I’ll want to talk to HR.” She glanced at Mokuba, who shrugged but nodded once.  
  
Before Richard had a chance to voice his objections, Justin settled a hand on her shoulder, rubbing a slow circle with his thumb; they shared a meaningful look, and he nodded his reassurance. “It’s cool, Dick, we’ll get her settled. Jen and Dale know what they’re doing.”  
  
Richard looked at Dale, who had, up until now, kept his distance from the situation, somewhat awkwardly hovering in the periphery. Richard had never been able to read the man, and under most circumstances this did not bother him too much. Though they occasionally played video games together, for testing purposes and simply for fun, it wasn’t as though they spent much time interacting. They certainly weren’t friends. Now, though, he wished he had something to go on: Jen was clearly torn, struggling obviously with what she called “_putting her business pants on_”; and even Justin, idiot though he was, was practically radiating warmth, visibly concerned.  
  
Dale, though. While he had a pained look on his face, his eyes drifted about the room distractedly, every so often coming to rest on the window of the gallery, through which Kaiba Seto could still be seen testing his Duel Disk, entirely unaware of the clamor above him. Eventually, Dale gave a thumbs up and a, “You got it, boss.”  
  
They left everyone with an uncertain look on their faces; as far as he knew, this wasn’t something any of them had experience in dealing with, and it frankly shocked him, the nonchalance with which Mokuba had reacted, as though this was something that just happened sometimes. Indeed he had even had the presence of mind to direct a car to wait for them at the front curb. The driver nodded sympathetically at her, continuing the odd trend. Either they weren’t taking the situation seriously, or it was, in fact, a regular occurrence. Richard could decide which it was; moreover, he couldn’t decide which was worse.  
  
The closer they got to her door, the more anxious Richard got. Her breathing had steadied some during the car ride, which she had spent zoned out with her eyes fixed on a far point out the window, and her color returned, but she was shaking terribly and seemed entirely unaware of it. Justin held her up with her arm through his while Richard darted ahead to get the car door, door to the hotel lobby, elevator, and then finally the door to her suite.  
  
True to his word, Mokuba had summoned a doctor, a friendly, bespectacled elderly man; she clicked with him immediately, Richard noted with some relief. Still, this was not enough to ease the knot of tension that was beginning to form between his eyes. A glance at the door showed that even Justin was unsure; he hung back awkwardly, and looked uncharacteristically out of place, his brow furrowed and lips downturned into a gentle frown.  
  
If Justin was affected, Richard felt vindicated that he was having an appropriate reaction.  
  
Richard knelt in front of her when the doctor went to fetch her a glass of water to take the small series of capsules. “I need you to convince me,” he told her seriously, making severe eye contact and trying not to become enraged when she cracked a bland smile.  
  
Finally, Justin spoke up, fiddling with his scarf. “Dick, I think – “  
  
Richard wheeled on him then, relishing in the fact that although Justin dwarfed him by a solid few inches, he shrank back for once in the face of Richard’s fury. “You do not call me that. You are not my fiancée. I did not ask you, I am speaking to her – “ he gestured first at her, then violently brought his finger up mere centimeters from the other man’s nose, “ – and _you_ will shut the fuck up.”  
  
She leaned forward and grabbed his other hand, squeezing his fingers weakly. “I’m fine, I promise. Please,” she insisted, completely failing to convince him.  
  
Justin scowled, equally unimpressed, and waved Richard’s finger from his face. What he said, however, was, “See, Dick? She says – “  
  
“Justin.”  
  
Justin raised his hands in surrender, turning away. “I’m just saying. Doctor’s here, and we can’t force it.” He had the grace to look uncomfortable with what he was saying, but the saying was enough, and she jumped in.  
  
“Exactly. Thank you,” she said, accepting the water and small paper cup of pills that the doctor handed her. She raised them, and rattled the pills lightly in a pointed gesture. “I’m about to be knocked the hell out anyway, you guys can go. Nothing you can do for me here.”  
  
Again, he felt like the only sane man, and he swallowed the rage that rose like bile in his throat. He threw his hands up in defeat, exasperated. “Fucking nuts,” he muttered. Richard rounded on the doctor, who simply blinked and smiled, unphased by the irritation Richard did not even bother to hide. “If something goes wrong, you contact us immediately.”  
  
“_Hai_,” the doctor responded serenely, bowing slightly. “Carriger-_san_ is listed as everyone’s emergency contact,” he added, as though it were obvious.  
  
“Wonderful,” Richard said stiffly, with no small amount of dry disdain.

* * *

Instead of driving off, the driver had, apparently, taken the opportunity for a smoke break and waited at the curb for them while they had gotten her situated. He flicked away the cigarette as they crossed the lobby, and offered them a short bow as they slid into the backseat. Justin continued fidgeting with the fringe of his scarf, staring balefully out the window, remaining silent; this was a stark contrast to the other car rides of the trip so far, where he fairly burst with energy and chattered with Matsubara.  
  
Richard took the silence as a blessing, an opportunity for him to regroup. His composure had been rattled quite a bit, and his mind wouldn’t slow down: if this was how she was simply watching testing of another product, how would she be for the rest of this project? Was this episode related to what happened on the plane? Why hadn’t she _fucking told anyone_?  
  
The last question rankled the most: not simply from a friend perspective, although how close they were was certainly ambiguous, but from a business perspective a simple heads up would have sufficed. “_Hey guys, I sometimes become incapacitated from a clearly severe but heretofore unknown trauma! J-S-Y-K, this may need accommodation!_”  
  
He didn’t think it was a lot to ask. Perhaps, he thought, stealing a short glimpse at Justin’s fingers as they worked loose some threads on his scarf, it was the stress of the promotion. It was a bad idea, and now the reason why was coming to the surface.  
  
Was that fair? Richard shook his head. No, he was the one who was right about this. What wasn’t fair was shoving it on her when all signs pointed to no. _But then this fucking idiot. _He stopped himself before he became angry again, scratching idly at the palm of his hand with his thumbnail, allowing the sensation to ground him.  
  
They arrived on edge but considerably calmer, and the driver reached the door before they could open it for themselves. Either he didn’t speak any English, or he chose not to, instead miming that he would be waiting for them in a lot nearby and that he would receive a call to pick them up. Richard, who was better with numbers than languages, thanked him briefly with one of the few phrases that he remembered from the phrasebook he and Jen had crammed from in the week prior. From the corner of his eye, he saw Justin exchange a bow with the man before jogging to catch up with him.  
  
Blessedly, the rest of their party was already there, and Jen waved them over. She was seated next to Date, and the two had several sheafs of paper spread before them; Date beamed when they sat, and swept the paperwork into a folder which she tucked neatly away in her bag.  
  
Jen leaned in to kiss her fiancé on the cheek as he slid into the seat on her opposite side. Immediately, seemingly from out of no where, Matsubara appeared with a cup in hand, and poured him a sake. He poured one for Justin as well, who sat himself down opposite where Dale, Kitagawa and Mokuba were deep in conversation; from the little Richard could pick up, they were discussing animation sequences for attacks, with Dale leaning on the more conservative side and Mokuba firmly insisting that bigger was better. Kitagawa’s eyes were bright, and he looked more relaxed than they had seen him yet, nodding enthusiastic punctuations to Mokuba’s declarations.  
  
Jen bumped her shoulder with his while everyone raised their glass in toast. “Is she…?”  
  
Richard shrugged noncommittally. “Doctor gave her a sedative.”  
  
Pouring herself another drink, Jen _hmm_ed softly. “You don’t sound happy.”  
  
“Jen.”  
  
She glanced askance at him, her voice taking on an edge. “Don’t. You know we’re all worried sick, just the same as you. We’re all taking this seriously, Dick, but we’ve got to take care of this, too.”  
  
His lips twisted into a grimace. He knew that. Before he could open his mouth to respond, Mokuba leaned into the table and flashed him a charming grin. “Don’t worry about your friend. Kaiba Corporation employs the best doctors in the city – Takahashi-_sensei_ will take much better care of her than if she went to the hospital, and he’s been with us forever.” The man winked brightly. “He’s seen it all.”  
  
“There you go, Dick, he’s seen it all,” Jen parroted. She tapped his thigh sharply with two fingers. “Now let’s build some relationships so when we go home it wasn’t all a very expensive bust,” she added under her breath.  
  
His scowl deepened, and from the corner of his eye he saw Mokuba watching the exchange with interest. He seemed to have heard, and he narrowed his eyes briefly, as though debating whether to interject again, then thought better of it. The intense look on his face passed in a flash before he was grinning again, immersed back into the conversation he was having with Dale and Kitagawa.  
  
The group continued in this way for some time, becoming involved in conversations of varying relevance to the project, drinking, laughing, and generally being merry. Now that Mokuba was present, the group dynamic of the KaibCorp team changed dramatically, especially in contrast to the frigidity during the Skype meeting where Kaiba had been present. The more he spoke, the clearer it became that he was an equally impressive force in the KaibaCorp roster: not only was his technological and logistical knowledge bordering on encyclopaedic, but the ease his employees felt around him made him seem deceptively harmless.  
  
A true charismatic business man, he seemed able to focus on everything at once, simultaneously chatting with their server for another round of food and drink (much to Chiba’s chagrin – she insisted, not very forcefully, that she wished Mokuba-_sama_ would let her do her job, which elicited a dismissive laugh) and making his way around the table, somehow dividing his attention evenly between his own team and the Americans, and conducting the conversation between the two parties expertly.  
  
Richard felt a little awed when he realized the angry tension in his chest had begun to alleviate. _What it must be like to have an effective leader_.  
  
A wave of laughter cascaded through the table as Mokuba finished an anecdote from his time in business school: either to impress a girl or on a drunken dare (both?), he had commandeered one of the Blue Eyes jets and had gotten it impounded (or stranded?). Unwilling to call his brother to bail him out, he told them, it was one of the first serious negotiations of his life.  
  
“We’ll just say that they receive regular alum donations from KaibaCorp subsidiaries,” he finished, grinning with patently false shame.  
  
As the laughter ebbed, the conversation lulled back to a scattering of low murmurs. Richard checked his watch anxiously, tapping his fingers idly against his beer glass. Though the night was going well, he was still concerned, and he glanced around the table: Jen and Date had pulled their files back out and seemed to be continuing their prior conversation, trying and failing to drag Justin’s attention in; and Chiba, Matsubara, Kitagawa and Mokuba seemed to be teaching Dale a drinking game based heavily on paper-rock-scissors. Richard frowned only slightly, trying to convince himself that everything would be okay until morning.  
  
He shifted in his seat, pausing mid-drink when Justin leaned forward, propping his weight on his elbows against the table. “Hey, Mokuba, not for nothing, dude, but do you happen to know if your brother is going to be joining us?” The rest of the table quieted, attention focused sharply on Mokuba’s reaction; Justin smiled in a very familiar way, an expression Richard recognized as Justin’s attempt at disarming. “Nothing against you, my man, just mighty excited to meet the guy.”  
  
With an exaggerated motion, Mokuba leaned back in his seat and threw his head over the back with a theatrical groan. When he straightened, he exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Chiba, who pressed her fingers gently against her upturned lips. “Every time,” he complained in a stage whisper to his team, all of whom shared the same amused expression. Continuing the charade, he threw his hands up in a helpless shrug. “Every time there’s a project, it’s always this way. I really must need to work on my reputation – I just can’t keep up with how popular _nii-sama_ is!” His lips curved into a wicked grin. “_Nee, nii-sama_?”  
  
“It must be my animal magnetism,” deadpanned a dry voice from behind them.  
  
The visible jump from Richard, Jennifer and Justin drew out the laughter that the KaibaCorp team seemed to have been holding back during Mokuba’s display. The Americans recovered from their shock gamely as the elder Kaiba dumped his overcoat on the back of the chair and deposited himself into it. Immediately, Matsubara appeared at his elbow with a glass for sake, which he waved off with a small gesture; this was apparently a common reaction from him, as Matsubara retreated only for a second before returning with a tasse and a metal carafe.  
  
Justin could not contain his glee. “Dude! Welcome! Hey!” He stood, and spread his arms comically wide in greeting. “Can I personally say what an honor it is to work with you – we’ve been super excited to get this going. Put her there, bud!”  
  
Grinning broadly, he extended a hand to shake, which Kaiba flicked his eyes to briefly before nodding his thanks to Matsubara.  
  
A ripple of unease passed through the KaibaCorp team, and Mokuba snorted into his beer glass. Jenn and Dale glanced at Richard, who could feel the migraine returning.  
  
Hurriedly, before the scene could devolve, Jenn put on a false smile and turned to Mokuba. “How did you even know your brother would be there?” she asked, leaning forward with a conspiratorial look on her face. “You guys plan it, don’t you?”  
  
Mokuba winked at her. “As brothers, we’re psychically linked. Haven’t you heard?”  
  
This, apparently, was some kind of inside joke, as it drew a reaction from the entire KaibaCorp team; where they had all normally been restrained with their amusement, this seemed genuinely funny to them. Kaiba himself scoffed, reaching for the bowl of edamame that Chiba was handing to him.  
  
Seemingly unbothered by the apparent discomfort, Kaiba turned to Date and asked a brief question in Japanese – she answered, smiling uncomfortably, then turned to Chiba and asked a series of questions. Mokuba chimed in here, gesturing with the hand that still held his beer, laying out what Richard assumed were a list of directives, turning to his brother to confirm with a token, “_Nee, nii-sama_?”  
  
Whatever conversation had occurred, the elder Kaiba shrugged his agreement, leveling a look at Jennifer. “You spoke with Ganbe, then?”  
  
When she spoke, Richard noticed the flush in her cheeks, and couldn’t remember if that had been there before, simply a side-effect of the drink. She nodded, leaning her weight forward onto her elbows. “Your head of HR? Yeah, nice guy. We’re gonna meet again before we leave.” Flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder, she met his gaze steadily (Richard shifted in his seat; that flush definitely had not been there before, he decided). “I don’t think there’s anything for us to worry about.”  
  
Kaiba seemed unconvinced. “Doesn’t bode well that one of your team has a heart attack before we even begin.”  
  
“To be fair, _nii-sama_, I don’t think it was a full heart attack – Takahashi_-sensei_ thinks it was just a panic attack,” Mokuba interjected, his tone conciliatory.  
  
Kaiba scoffed again. “That isn’t better. If they can’t even watch a test duel, then how are they going to handle alpha testing? Beta? Launch?” He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest with a soft _hmph_.  
  
Despite taking the insult to his person with relatively good cheer, Justin bridled at the current line of conversation. Gently placing the palms of his hands against the tabletop, he caught Kaiba’s eye wearing an icy expression that Richard had never seen him wear. “Hey now,” he said, tone clipped and entirely unlike him. “We don’t know what caused whatever, but that woman is easily the most valuable contribution we have to offer this partnership.”  
  
It was a loaded statement, and though Richard did not disagree, his brows shot up, and he shifted somewhat to exchange a look with his fiancée – her attention, however, was firmly affixed on the man across the table, her expression mild and unreadable.  
  
Kaiba, apparently, also thought it was a bold sentiment, and he laughed his disdain. “That may not be the thing to brag about, Carriger.”  
  
Before any of the Americans could react, the KaibaCorp team leapt to the rescue – Date rattled off a series of statements rapid-fire, Kitagawa nodding his agreement fervently. A word caught Kaiba’s attention, and he parroted, beginning a flurry anew from Date.  
  
The second round fell on willing ears, and Kaiba’s eyes narrowed in consideration, his expression thoughtful. Mokuba took the opportunity to say something wry, and the elder Kaiba’s lips twisted into a smirk when he responded.  
  
Watching the scene with interest, it seemed very much to Richard that something key had just been discussed, and loath as he was to admit it, none of the team was remotely prepared for this kind of interaction. Woefully unprepared, even, and he cursed himself. This is something that could have been avoided, at least in part, if any of them had studied Japanese before the trip, or at any point in their lives. The only people that did were…  
  
Well, not here.  
  
He shifted toward Jen to say so, only barely looking at her out of the corner of his eye, and drew short when he noticed that she again held her attention rapt on Kaiba. Though already resting her weight on her elbows, she leaned forward even more, a smirk on her face like the cat that had gotten cream. “Don’t worry, Kaiba,” she said in a low voice that could only be described as a purr. “If we have any issues, I’ll be sure to go easy on you.”  
  
Then, abruptly, as though the interaction had not happened, she drew back and laughed, patting Richard’s thigh gently. “But I don’t think we have anything to worry about. We’ll check on her in the morning, and move forward as projected.”  
  
Richard didn’t think he was imagining things when he saw her flutter her eyelashes at him, and he wondered vaguely what the fuck was happening to his life.  
  
The remainder of the evening past in relative, if awkward, cheer – Mokuba gamely tried to rally back to the level of friendliness they had all achieved before his brother had arrived, and Kitagawa ordered another carafe of sake for another boisterous call of _kanpai!_ But, inevitably, the hour and the day caught up with everyone, and they straggled out into the night.  
  
Loosening his tie, Richard peered around the lot, seeing their driver making his way over to them. A quick glimpse around told him that the ladies’ car and driver was coming from the opposite direction, and he took a step toward them, intent on having a needed conversation with his fiancée. The warm hand on his shoulder stopped him, and not for the first time that day he felt like planting his fist solidly into Justin’s face. The expression the other man wore was gentle, though, and he shook his head once, jerking his head in the direction of the open door to the car cabin.  
  
“Let’s go, man, we’ve all had a long day.” He called out a goodnight to Date and Chiba, flashing them a peace sign and a smile.  
  
With a furtive glance over his shoulder as Jen climbed into the back of her car, he sighed into the cold air and allowed himself to be dragged to the waiting car.  
  
The car ride was not nearly as awkward as he might have expected, as once the door closed its occupants stirred to life. An uncharacteristic fire in his eyes, Dale snarled, “He had no right.”  
  
Justin did not remove his hands from his coat pockets, and he did not raise his chin from his chest. “No,” he agreed, the tone in his voice thoughtful and deep as he closed his eyes and sighed. “I wasn’t a fan either.”  
  
When he didn’t open his eyes, Richard could only assume that he had dozed off, and that he would be allowed the rest of the car ride in peace, but Justin removed his hands from his pockets and basketed them behind his head. There was a strangely contemplative look in his eyes, and Richard could see the wheels turning.  
  
Dale did not appear to notice this, and continued. “For all we know, he could have caused it, and he wants to make it her fault?” Then, in a motion that reminded Richard starkly of Jennifer’s sister’s children, he jerked his head to look out the window and crossed his arms over his chest. For a man his size, the posture was bullish, but it remained tinged with petulance. “He had no right.”  
  
“I know,” responded Justin, calm and mollifying, keeping his gaze fixed thoughtfully on the floor in front of him.  
  
“So do we intend to do anything about it?” Richard hazarded, blearily trying to shift the focus back to something productive. Although he too desperately wanted to vent, the cabin of a KaibaCorp issued car was not the place to do so.  
  
Justin shrugged mildly. “Gotta feel it out. We don’t know until we know.”  
  
“Your guidance is astounding, Justin.”  
  
The remaining few blocks passed in silence, each man wrapped up in his own train of thought and perfectly content to ignore the other. Finally, as the driver pulled up to the curb and rushed out to get the door before they could do so themselves, Justin spoke again.  
  
“We’ll see what comes, but I will tell you this: he won’t talk about her that way again.”  
  
The look on his face was such a stark contrast to any expression Richard had ever seen him wear, and it lingered so briefly that by the time they exited the car it was gone, and he wondered if the poor lighting in the car was simply playing a trick on him.  
  
He did not have time to address it, though. From across the lobby, he saw a tired Jen, posture slumped, waiting for the elevator. The light flashed to indicate its arrival, and she glanced up. Richard bid the others goodnight, and dashed through the front doors, jogging across the lobby and sliding into the elevator with his fiancée, sharply jabbing the Close Doors button and the button for her floor.  
  
“You and I need to have a conversation.”

* * *

You woke with a jolt at the sound of a slamming door, the world warped and woozy from the medication. Vaguely through the walls – which, you noted, were not exactly thin – you heard the sounds of muffled shouting. Somewhat alarmed, you threw a plush robe on over the clothes you had slept in and peeked out the door. From across the hall you confirmed that there was definitely shouting, and after a moment’s pause you quietly closed the door.  
  
The medication that the KaibaCorp doctor had given you must have worn off by this point – your heart pounded. He did not leave you any more – an agreement you both came to early on, as you did not want to administer too much without him there – so you felt trapped. Tapping your fingers idly against your leg, your mind raced to find a way to distract yourself, eventually coming to the solution of a shower. In general, they had always calmed you down, and you had not yet had the time to take advantage of the full experience.  
  
You weren’t sure how long you spent immersed in the steam, but it certainly didn’t feel like long enough before you heard a few distinct thumps. At first you thought the argument across the hall had escalated, and you turned the water off in a panic – you weren’t sure you were in any fit state, but if the fight was getting physical, surely you would have to interfere?  
  
To your relief, this was not the case, and there was silence. Then the sound again, and you breathed a sigh of relief: only a knock. Slicking your hair back, you donned the enormous robe again and padded back to the door, rising to tiptoes to check the peephole. Frowning somewhat, you cracked open the door, shielding yourself with it somewhat.  
  
Entirely unlike the other night when everyone had reveled, Justin reeked of liquor. He leaned heavily against the doorjamb, and upon seeing your face he cocked a finger gun, winking. “What’s up, killer.”  
  
“You smell awful,” you greeted, not moving to let him in.  
  
To your relief, he did not move either, simply cocking his head and squinting down at you with an unreadable smile – it wasn’t quite the same as the slick, cunning one he usually wore. This one was more…earnest. Crooked. “Bet,” he agreed, laughing softly. “I feel like I smell awful. You smell great, though.”  
  
“Shower,” you supplied uncertainly, grip on the door beginning to relax slightly. “Why are you here? Now?”  
  
“Shower sounds great. Bet you needed it.” Then, rethinking, he waved a hand dismissively. “No, you didn’t, you were fine. Are you fine? I’m checking on you,” he said, enunciating unnecessarily.  
  
The tension softened around your edges, and you felt yourself warm slightly – you had assumed with him being drunk that he would be…uncomfortable to be around, but thusfar he appeared to be sincerely concerned. “I’m all right. Really, everyone is being worried for nothing – the doctor hung out with me while I slept, we talked a little, he got me some food, and then I slept some more. I only woke up a little while ago.”  
  
At this, Justin slumped somewhat, as though the tension were the only thing keeping him erect. “Good,” he said softly, lurching forward a bit – you didn’t stop him this time, allowing him to cross the threshold into your room.  
  
Eyeing him critically, you sighed. “Hang on, let me get you some water.”  
  
Making his way across the room with surprising deftness, not once bumping into any furniture, he deposited himself into an armchair, tossing his head back to rest on the back of the chair. “Oh, dude, that’s not necessa – oh word, thanks,” he laughed, cut off by the water bottle from the minibar that you shoved into his face. He cracked it open and drank half in one powerful gulp, _aahhh_ing dramatically.  
  
You seated yourself on the far side of the couch, tucking your legs underneath you, waiting. Normally, Justin was a very cheerful drunk, very chatty, very forward – if there was something that he wanted, all you had to do was wait for him to get it off his chest, and you could send him on his way. This time, however, he seemed content to simply hold the water bottle in his lap, smiling at you in the darkness.  
  
You shifted, not quite uneasy. “Well,” you chanced, fiddling with the sleeves of the robe. “I’m good. I’m probably gonna get some more sleep. Be fresh for the meeting tomorrow so hopefully I don’t fuck it up again.”  
  
The smile did not leave his face, and he remained still in his seat, almost statuesque. “You won’t fuck it up,” was all he said.  
  
Oh. Okay.  
  
Another several moments of silence passed in this way, you not looking at him and picking at fibers on the robe, and him simply smiling at you, unmoving.  
  
Finally, you jerked as another knock sounded, your heart leaping into your throat, and you whirled in your seat. If everyone was planning on piling into your room, you certainly didn’t think that you could handle that. Before you could collect yourself to respond, though, Justin simply let out a calm, “Ah, I’ll get that,” and rose from his seat.  
  
Staring at him in your profound confusion, he made his way back to the door of your suite. You head it open, and you heard a few murmurs – some stiff and abrupt, and some of a lower register, milder. You slipped from the couch and moved closer to the door, allowing the architecture of the room guard you.  
  
Though Justin held the door open, his grip on the door was firm, and his other arm rested on the doorjamb. In the triangles of light that peeked through, you could see Dale standing in the hall, shifting his stance, his shoulders held rigid. He caught sight of you, and stiffened a bit.  
  
“As you can see, she’s just fine, there, bud,” Justin said smoothly, gesturing lightly with a hand. “Was just checking on her, myself, but I think we should let her get some sleep. She’s had a long day.”  
  
You weren’t certain, but the final portion sounded emphasized. You shook your head to clear it somewhat, keenly aware that Dale had turned red during his exchange with Justin, and you cleared your throat. “Yeah, no, I’m exhausted. I imagine you all are, too – I’d love to hear about the dinner meeting, but later, yeah?” It was as firm as you could be in your current state.  
  
You couldn’t see Justin’s full expression, but you could his profile, silhouetted by the hallway light – the smile remained affixed on his lips, his brow unfurrowed, but his eyes were steely. “There you go, from the lady herself.”  
  
Shifting his weight forward, he stepped back out into the hall, slipping his hands to the outer door knob – oddly graceful, his body consistently remained positioned to fill the entire doorway. With one final wink at you, he turned back to Dale, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s let her sleep, and catch some snoozes ourselves, bud. Night,” he called, shutting the door with one final peace sign at you.  
  
Dazed, though you knew the door was closed and he could not see you, you absently returned the gesture before padding back to finish your shower so that you could return to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I really like writing adult Mokuba. Dude's a gem. I may write down some of the headcanons I've got for him. 
> 
> God this one was so much unnecessary drama lmao. So next chapter is gonna be one of my favorite exchanges in the whole thing, and I can't wait - it's the conversation that sparked the whole fic, tbh, and frankly the note that I've written for it in my outline is one of the funniest fucking things.
> 
> I'm glad people enjoyed the duel! Or at least it seemed like it - last chapter was one of the most popular of the fic so far. Which makes me feel great, that one was a lotta hard work. Since that's the case, I think y'all are really gonna enjoy the other two duels I've got planned - since no one dies, they're both much lighter haha. I really will get around to posting a meta of RC's deck - at least her Battle City deck.
> 
> I hope everyone's having a safe and happy holiday season so far! Thank you very very much as always to everyone who has expressed their support for this fic: Mistress_Insanity, zhonghaesung, zymogen, and guests; and thank you so much to everyone who chatted with me in the comments: zymogen, ScarletBelle87, Gale, MorgannePhaedras, sakuchwan and 5_Stirling_Heartstrings. Y'all make me the happiest fic-writer in the world.
> 
> And again as always, if you care to see a little more behind the scenes, please give my writing blog [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com) a follow! At the moment it's mostly YGO meme spamming, etc, but I may start posting meta here soon if I can remember to stop being so lazy - and either for chapter 10 or 1000 hits (whichever is first?), I'll do a giveaway! Nothing big, but I still think it'll be fun.


	10. All You Deliver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [By the time you reach your goal, tongues will be twisted to the point where you'll lose track of your soul.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-v1dPZEPrbA)

Morning came peacefully, and you found yourself with no difficulty in rising with your alarm. Rather than jump right into the day, though, you threw the robe on over your shoulders and sat on the balcony, taking stock of yourself.  
  
You felt…fine. You flexed a hand, tapping your fingertips against your thumb in a brief dance, rotating through various patterns. Drs. Tucker and Lucas had recommended the exercise to you ages ago, the digital dexterity an easy litmus test for…something. You frowned as one of the rotations slipped from the pattern, and you placed the palm of your hand flat against your thigh instead.  
  
You weren’t foggy, there were no cobwebs – to convince yourself, you recited the alphabet forward and then back – but you certainly didn’t feel sharp. You simply felt…fine.  
  
The medication that the KaibaCorp doctor had given you had definitely worn off by this point, only the barest remaining vestiges lingering when you had crawled back into the bed the night before. It wouldn’t be hard, you supposed, to get a prescription from him while you were here – it wouldn’t be hard to get one from Dr. Tucker either, as you suspected it was simply clonazepam and something else, but that would mean you had to admit to Dr. Tucker that you had not filled his prescription for diazepam.  
  
You sighed, leaning your head against your raised knee. Although you had promised Dr. Tucker that you would check in with him upon your return, you had also promised that everything would be fine.  
  
Of all the I-Told-You-Soers that you knew, Dr. Tucker was the most aggressive, and that, frankly, was not a conversation you were keen to have again.  
  
And Takahashi-_sensei had_ left you his card…  
  
You rose, heading immediately for the armchair Richard and Justin had deposited you into before leaving you, passing a cursory inspection of the end tables nearby. You knew you had put it somewhere, but exactly where eluded you. Propping your hands on your hips and casting a thoughtful glance about the room, you decided you could look for it later. After all, there were only so many places it could be.  
  
You checked one of the clocks and sighed again, shushing your nerves. It was about time to begin getting ready – since the previous two nights had been fun, the itinerary called for business on the docket today: a meeting with Date, Kitagawa and the Kaiba brothers to present what had been completed so far and more solid projections, as well as some of the advertising strategies you and Rebecca had worked on. In addition, it would be time for them to present to your team what they had in mind.  
  
Since you had missed an entire day, you felt like the odd man out, not least of all for the reason why. Digging through your suitcase, you _tsk_ed shortly and shucked off the clothing you slept in, swapping for something fresh and presentable. Running a comb through your hair, your gaze fell on the Domino skyline out the window.  
  
_If the KaibaCorporation building is here, and east is that way, then that would put it…_ You shook your head, turning your attention back to the mirror in front of you, reaching perhaps a touch aggressively for your toothbrush.  
  
_Ancient history_.  
  
With only the briefest moment to bring the toothpaste to a lather, you jolted at the knock at your door. You spit hurriedly, swerving out from the bathroom to tug the door open.  
  
“Justin.” You let him in, glancing anxiously at your watch. “I’m not late, am I? I thought I had enough time.”  
  
He raised a hand in greeting, laughing a bit when he replied. “Oh, no, you’re good. We’re all comin’ together, we’ve got time. Hey I just wanted to – “ He paused when you looked up to face him, and his lips curved softly into a smile. He reached a hand toward you then stopped, drawing back with a jerk, hesitantly tapping his cheek. “You’ve got something.”  
  
“Hm? Oh.” Hastily checking the mirror, you scrubbed the fleck of toothpaste from your cheek. “Better?”  
  
He leveled and fired a finger gun. “Perfect. Hey, look, I wanted to talk to you earlier, but then – “  
  
“But then.” You cleared your throat, making a _get on with it_ gesture with your hand. The less said about it, the better, frankly. It was bad enough that it had happened, but to talk about it? With your coworkers? Hard pass.  
  
“Yeah.” Mirroring you, he cleared his throat as well. “So, right, yeah, I wanted to bring it up on the plane, too, but you were sleeping, and I was rude – “  
  
Stepping back into the bathroom, you grabbed your forgotten toothbrush and made to complete the task. So as not to deter him, you maintained eye contact, nodding as he spoke, and you gestured to one of the armchairs. “Let me finish this. Sit, I’m listening. Sorry.”  
  
“Right. Sure, yeah. Anyway, look, I know I’ve been keeping a lot of this real close to the chest, and I wanna let you know I appreciate all you’ve done – not just you, everyone, but mostly you – and I figured now’d be a good time to let you in on my thoughts – “  
  
You scoffed around your mouthful of toothpaste, glancing askance at him and raising a brow. “Yoo fink now’zh beshtime?” You spat, rinsed, tried again; “Sorry, you think now’s the best time for that?” You couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled in your throat as you recalled all the anxiety the project had put you through. “We’re a few weeks past that point.”  
  
He canted his head, expression unreadable. “Well, I mean.” Unwinding the scarf from his neck, he fidgeted with it in his lap. “Look, yeah, I haven’t been up front, but I got us this far, yeah? And, look, I know it’s gonna sound silly, but I need you to hear me out – you gotta trust me – “  
  
“Spit it out, or we actually will be running late.”  
  
The fidgeting ceased immediately, and he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, gesturing as though he were telling some grand tale. “All right, so when I got the idea for this project, it was when that issue of Duelist Monthly came out, right? And I knew – “  
  
You blinked. “I’m sorry, you knew about the Duelist Monthly.” You felt a pit forming in your gut, and you forced yourself to sit. From the way the meeting had gone, it had seemed as though it was your idea…  
  
“What? Oh, yeah, totally. Mail room accidentally sent it to me, so I skimmed, you know? Anyway, I saw the article, and dude you were totally in one of the photos!” He gestured, throwing his arms wide, an ecstatic grin on his face. “In the background, but still! You were totally in one of the photos, and you were dueling, and you looked great, so I looked you up – “  
  
“I’m sorry, you… I’m sorry, hang on.”  
  
“Yeah, man,” he laughed, building up momentum as though he had been waiting to lay it out to you for a while. “You looked great, and you had already been with us for like three months or something, and I looked up your duels from that tournament, and shit, you did so good. So I figured – “  
  
“Hang on, Justin, wait. You – I’m sorry. You knew about the Duelist Monthly? You read it.” The pit began to deepen in your belly, low and dark and cool, and the heat migrated to your neck.  
  
Justin had gained his head of steam, though, and did not seem to be able to keep himself contained. “Right, yeah, I read it, and I saw how great you were, and I already knew kinda what I wanted, but man, not _how_ – and then it hit me, y’know?”  
  
“No, wait. I – wait.” You steepled your fingers and pressed them into the bridge of your nose. The room had suddenly become warm, and though you suspected he hadn’t raised his voice at all, Justin suddenly sounded quite loud.  
  
“I watched your duel with – “  
  
“Don’t say it,” you moaned quietly.  
  
“ – Kaiba, and it just, boom, outta nowhere, I was like, yeah, dude!” His energy filled the space he occupied, exuberant and bright-eyed, his cheeks pinkening. His voice rang and rattled in your ears, and even at the distance you sat you could feel his breath, hot and excited, wash over you.  
  
At the sound of the name, your stomach flipped, and you leaned forward with a groan. The room was stifling, suddenly much too hot. You leapt from your seat, paced briefly, then went to the window to open it. “Justin, what – “  
  
“And, oh, man, dude, the way he looked at you during that duel. Like. Wow. So I figure – “  
  
“You figure what, Justin?” you snapped, whirling on him. This time, you did not allow him to continue, feeling yourself grow much larger than your skin in your rage. “You figured, what, that I would come here with you and he would see me batting my eyelashes and he would sign the company over to you? Done deal, happily ever after?”  
  
Quieted, he let you finish, nonplussed and unmoved as you snarled, spit your disbelief into his face. Holding up his hands as though speaking with an animal, he continued, “No, dude, I get your point, but hear me out, all right? Look, here, check it out – “ here he whipped out his tablet from his coat pocket, tapped the screen a couple times, and held it aloft to what you immediately recognized as the duel. The walls wobbled and the world swerved when your eyes flickered to the Bookmarked icon, lit and yellow, and –  
  
He had watched the duel.  
  
A _lot_, by the looks.  
  
Whatever he said next was lost on you, and your knees gave out – you leaned heavily against the windowsill, trying very hard to breathe. Stretching your legs out in front of you, you leaned forward, placing your head between your knees while he prattled on.  
  
Slowly, you rose, and the look on your face stopped him cold. “Justin,” you said quietly, “I’m going to go vomit.”  
  
Calmly, _calmly_, you made your way back to the bathroom, sank to your knees, and allowed all of the rage, all of the anxiety, all of the hurt spew from you. Tears sprang to your eyes, and you were sincerely uncertain if it was from the stress or the burning of bile in your throat.  
  
He had brought you back here to where – he had promoted you before you were ready– he had _made it seem like your idea_ – he had –  
  
He had watched the duel.  
  
You panted, deep, gulping gasps of air, and vaguely you felt the cool hand rubbing small circles on your back. Lacking the energy to push him away, you leveled Justin with an exhausted look.  
  
To his credit, he looked wretched. Guilt painted each line of his body, and his eyes, downcast, did not hold any of the mirth they had only moments ago. Finally, he was the one who broke the silence. “Look, I know it isn’t ideal, but I’m not asking you to sleep with the guy – “  
  
You barked a hoarse laugh, and vomited once more.  
  
“ – I’m not! I just.” He grunted, frowned – where he usually seemed perfectly comfortable blathering on, here he seemed lost for words, and disgruntled at his inability to fill the silence. “I just think,” he continued slowly, picking over his words carefully, “that whatever happened during that duel, you had a connection. That he acknowledged you as a, shit, what do you guys call it?”  
  
“_Shin no duelist_,” you supplied weakly, resting your forehead against the seat of the toilet. “You think Kaiba thinks I’m a true duelist, and you think that’s going to make him want a business deal with a two-bit nobody from the States.”  
  
“Worth a shot.”  
  
Unexpectedly, you laughed, which drew another heave from you. You thought, finally, blessedly, that you had emptied the contents of your stomach, but so spent were you that you could not even rise at the sound of another knock. The cool hand stopped tracing circles, and you head the tap running followed by the gentle _clink_ of a glass being set on the tile next to you.  
  
While you relished in the cool feeling of the porcelain against your flushed face, you heard voices from the other room, Justin’s soft, low murmur, and another, high and bright, a clear chirping “_gozaimasu!_” end to a sentence you hadn’t heard the beginning of before the door closed.  
  
Lightheaded, you downed the glass of water, wiping your mouth against the back of your arm, gripping one hand against the bathroom counter and attempting to haul yourself upright.  
  
“Justin,” you called. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”  
  
“Is it?” His voice had moved; it seemed as though now it was coming from somewhere near the couches, and you rinsed your mouth out briefly before going to hunt for him.  
  
“It is,” you confirmed. “I do not think that this is a good business strategy, and moreover, I don’t think it’s – what on earth is that.”  
  
You immediately regretted the question as he turned to face you; Justin could not keep the smug smirk from his lips, angling the vase on the low table just so, the morning light catching the arrangement prettily. He plucked a small card nestled into the flowers, proffering it to you between his index and middle finger.  
  
“Looks like flowers,” he said, and you froze, making no movement whatsoever to take the card. Gently placing the card onto the table next to the vase, he fluffed the arrangement somewhat as he brought his hands to his pockets. Raising his eyebrows pointedly at the flower arrangement, he turned his gaze back to you. “I’m just saying. I’ve got us this far.”  
  
Your tone became a plea. “Justin. I’m telling you, I don’t think this is a good idea.”  
  
Crossing the space between you with a single stride, he caught of your hands in his, bringing them up, clasped in the space between your bodies. The look he adopted then was hungry, though for what (_control of the situation? understanding and acceptance? …something else entirely?_) you weren’t sure.  
  
“I’m not gonna lead us to a place we can’t come back from.” Suddenly close, his voice lowered and softened. It occurred to you that this was the most sincere you had ever seen him be. Squeezing your hand gently, he repeated something he had been saying for months: “I just need you to trust me.”  
  
Though he dwarfed you significantly, you had no problem raising your chin to hold his gaze steadily. “You aren’t making it easy, Justin.” Your voice lowered in spite of yourself until it was equally as soft; you weren’t certain he heard you until, after a beat, he snuffled a quiet laugh from his nose and lowered his head, eyes shut.  
  
It was difficult to say how long you stood there – likely only seconds, though it felt much longer – before yet another knock alerted you to someone at your door.  
  
Disentangling yourself from him, you turned. “That’s probably everyone else.”  
  
“Probably.”  
  
You grabbed the door, checking your watch briefly. “Dale. Hey, morning. Thanks,” you accepted the cup of coffee from him, ushering him inside. “Sorry, we’re almost ready.”  
  
“We?” His eyes flicked to where Justin stood, and he halted, face carefully blank, shifting his gaze subtly to the flowers on the table, then back to Justin.  
  
The other man waved a peace sign in greeting. “Morning, dude.” If he was bothered by the disturbance, he didn’t show it, the familiar slick smile back on his face as he slid his hands back into his pockets.  
  
Dale nodded his acknowledgement, but otherwise did not move. After a beat, he said, without looking at you, “Well, I came up here to get you, but I can see you’ve already been gotten.”  
  
His voice sounded stilted, and you tilted your head at the strange tone. “No, sorry, I just need a sec, hang on. We can go down together.”  
  
You dashed for your shoes and coat, but he had already turned, making his way back toward the elevator. “Richard and Jennifer are in the lobby, I’ll let them know you two are on your way,” he called over his shoulder.  
  
Baffled, you tugged your shoes on, looking up at Justin. He had remained still through the exchange, that same smile still ghosting his lips. “What’s wrong with Dale?”  
  
At your prompt, Justin glanced at you, and his energy shifted as he came back to life. He waved a dismissive hand, grinning wider. “Ah, he’s all right. Ready to head out?”  
  
Hesitating, you nodded, eyeing his back uncertainly as he led the way out. Finally, during the elevator ride down, you broke the silence. “It’s just not a good idea.” To keep yourself from getting riled up, you did not look at him, instead focusing intently on the floor display as you went down. You felt more than saw his attention turn to you. “I cannot imagine a universe where something like that would even work.”  
  
As the doors slid open to deposit the two of you into the lobby, Justin tossed his head back and laughed brightly. “More’s happened with less.”  
  
The rage sparked back into your cheeks. “This isn’t the middle ages, and I’m not some token that you can use to trade for better business,” you snapped, harsh.  
  
His hand clapped your shoulder briefly. “Nah. You’re way more than that.”  
  
Whatever had happened in the last twenty-four hours, the group dynamic had changed wildly – everyone seemed tetchy, and he train ride to the KaibaCorp building was stuffy. Justin seemed to be the only one not affected, blustering as he did, undeterred by the withering looks he received from all directions.  
  
For your part, you knew why you were upset, and your mind buzzed at the influx of stimuli, almost overwhelmed by the differences in everyone’s behavior. You wanted to know what Dale’s problem was, as he was scarcely so short with you – laconic, certainly, but never terse. And, you thought, chewing your lip, you desperately wanted to know whether you had imagined the shouting and door slamming from across the hall – even if it was something you wanted to approach, you would not know where to begin. From what you had seen of Richard, he never rose to anger that much unless he had a reason, but you also held a distinct sympathy for Jennifer as the recipient of the rage, having a keen bias against domestic violence. Your eyes trailed up and down her figure discreetly. You supposed whatever fight between them, she would more than be able to hold her own, and you chastised yourself briefly for assuming that Richard was the instigator. You rolled your lips to avoid drawing blood; it was a complicated situation that you knew nothing about.  
  
And then Justin’s bombshell. He winked at you, holding the door out of the train station for you, and you frowned in response. What exactly the fuck was he thinking with this dumb bullshit? The entire last couple of months whirred in your mind, blurring your vision slightly – which parts were even sincere? You clutched your bag tightly against your side. You were supposed to be presenting some final drafts of print ad copy to Kaiba today, but since your conversation with Justin, you had to wonder if the actual work you produced had any merit at all, or if he was just banking on whoring you out.  
  
_He had promoted you to chief marketing officer of his company because Kaiba looked at you once_.  
  
You shook your head to clear it. No, maybe that wasn’t fair. Was it? You didn’t know anymore. You knew for certain that you and your team had produced good work in the past – your numbers alone spoke for that, not to mention testimonials that you had received when you freelanced out of college. You were, you knew, good at your job.  
  
But Justin’s timing could not have been worse.  
  
And more than that, a realization dawned on you, and you allowed yourself to trail slightly behind the group. How many of them knew? None? All? You didn’t think Richard would stand for it, and the thought comforted you – that would be one argument that Justin could not blasé his way out of. But what about Jennifer? You had assumed that you were close, or were becoming so, but was that simply her way of making sure you were…  
  
You didn’t finish the thought.  
  
And Dale. Is that why he was behaving so strangely toward you today?  
  
You sighed, and increased your stride to catch back up with the team. Regardless of everyone else’s intention, you determined, you would do what you came here to do – you, Rebecca, and the rest of your team had worked too hard for you not to believe in what you had created. You thought briefly of what you had told the rest of the team before the second Skype meeting, and you straightened your posture, raising your chin.  
  
_"Present your best as though it is your best_._”  
  
_The KaibaCorp building loomed just ahead, and you felt yourself walking more buoyant steps, bolstered by your own support. _Just have to make it through the week_.  
  
“Oh shit, what’s this?” Justin leaned to one side with curiosity, peering ahead.  
  
You squinted. From where you stood, it looked simply as though one of the sleek black cars was parked in front of the building, but upon closer inspection you could see one of the drivers was near the front, shirtsleeves rolled up, crouching before what appeared to be a flat tire.  
  
Jennifer lifted the sunglasses from her face. “I think that guy was the one who drove you guys, wasn’t it? Bummer. Does KaibaCorp not do like a AAA, or something?”  
  
You shrugged a shoulder; you honestly didn’t know. “It does seem odd that he has to change it, especially being directly in front of the building.”  
  
“Let’s check it out.” Gently smacking the back of his hand against Dale’s chest, Justin made his way in that direction, switching to walk backward to call out to you, Richard and Jennifer. “Tell them we’ll be up in a minute. We’ve got a little time.”  
  
Somewhat red in the face, though you couldn’t be sure it wasn’t from the cold, Dale acquiesced and followed, already beginning to shed his jacket.  
  
You looked over at Jennifer, who had already slipped the sunglasses back onto her pert nose, and Richard, who looked as though he had swallowed something that was still alive. You sighed, frowning sympathetically, and jerked your head toward the front entrance. “I guess let’s go then.”  
  
Once inside, you collected your visitors’ badges from the sweet front desk receptionist, who directed you to the proper floor. She told you, in somewhat hushed tones, that your party was early, and the meeting had not yet begun. You thanked her, and ushered the other two into the elevator.  
  
If the train ride was awkward, the elevator ride felt moreso, and you writhed beneath your skin, feeling more the odd man out than you had before. If they felt it, though, they didn’t show any discomfort: Jennifer, as she was wont, typed away at her email on her phone, and Richard kept himself still and composed, both of their faces matching masks.  
  
The elevator dinged at the appropriate floor, and you stepped out, taking quick stock to find the appropriate conference room. “I think it’s this way,” you said uncertainly, feeling very much as though you should have refreshed your written Japanese before the trip.  
  
Nodding once, Richard gently took Jennifer’s elbow. “Go ahead, we’ll meet you there shortly.”  
  
You hesitated, staring at their retreating backs. Surely they wouldn’t fight here…? At least not loudly…  
  
You frowned, and determined to ask Jennifer about it when everyone arrived back at the hotel, spinning on your heel and making your way to the conference room. The light was on, and you heard papers shuffling from inside, which seemed a good sign – you peeked in discreetly and took a sharp breath.  
  
As before, although the meeting was not for another several minutes, Kaiba sat at a sleek table, flipping through several packets arrayed in front of him, every so often jotting a note in a small notebook off to the side. He glanced up cursorily when you entered and deposited your bag and coat, but otherwise paid you no mind.  
  
Your heart pounded in your ears, the blood rushing immediately to your face. It had been years, it had been so long since he had been this close. The frame of your vision darkened, and you thought you could smell lightning before you shook your head lightly – it was going to be fine, you told yourself firmly. Out from under your lashes, you peeked over at him, sleek brown head bent over his work; you refocused before he had call to look at you, slipping your laptop and an accordion file from your bag. Your hands shook as you picked through the ads you wanted to present, and you held your breath to steady yourself.  
  
“_Nii-sama_!” The voice called out from behind you, and the man lifted his head – though his reaction was mild, his face softened a bit around the edges as his brother came around the table and nudged his shoulder with an elbow, setting a briefcase in the space immediately to Kaiba’s right. They exchanged a greeting, and looking up Mokuba seemed to notice you. “Ah! Good morning!”  
  
You rose to bow, but Mokuba waved you down with a laugh. “You don’t have to do that, it’s all right. Hey, how are you feeling? Takahashi-_sensei_ told me you were out like a light.”  
  
Though he continued to work, the elder Kaiba’s eyes jerked toward you, appraising.  
  
Chuckling somewhat nervously, you tore away from the cold blue eyes pinning you down, turning in your seat to face Mokuba more fully. “Ah, yeah. I guess the jet lag really did me in.” You regretted it the instant it was out of your mouth, but chuckled again to cover yourself. Perhaps if you laughed stupidly enough they would think you were joking.  
  
It did not appear to work, and Mokuba canted his head, his expression confused for the briefest of seconds. “Strangest jet lag I’ve ever seen. You must hate flying,” he teased, seating himself and unpacking the files he needed from his briefcase.  
  
Somewhat relieved that he wasn’t pushing for details, you laughed again and played along. “Don’t do it much – but then, that must be why. But no, I’m much better now, thank you for asking. And your house doctor, Takahashi-_sensei_, he left me his card if I needed help.”  
  
“You mean if the jet lag comes back?” The grin split his face, but Mokuba kept his tone mild.  
  
You paused, continuing to feel stupid, and against your will you chuckled again. The shaking in your hands grew worse with every second that Kaiba watched you, and you balled them into fists to still them, hating that his eyes flickered at the movement. “You never know,” you joked, despising yourself.  
  
Blessedly, Mokuba took the cue to change the subject. “Can’t wait to get started on this, hey? Ever since coming out with the Duel Disk, _nii-sama_’s been trying to make Duel Monsters portable – amazing that we’re only now porting a version to mobile phones, _nee, nii-sama_?”  
  
Kaiba had turned his attention back to his paperwork, by and large, but you felt the weight of his focus keenly. He responded to his brother with a _hm_, but otherwise did not react.  
  
“Do you play Duel Monsters?” Mokuba flashed you a charming smile, and you allowed the gesture to disarm you, determinedly loosening your shoulders. At this question, though, you could not help the tension that danced along your spine.  
  
Your mouth felt dry, and you only then noticed that you had left behind the coffee that Dale had brought you. Swallowing, you responded with a simple, “I did.” When Mokuba’s expression became eager, you added shortly, “A long time ago.”  
  
The interest Mokuba displayed was fairly token, but he engaged regardless. “Oh yeah? Were you any good? I’d have loved to have seen you play – _nii-sama_’s hosted his share of tournaments, but I don’t remember seeing you in any of them. But then,” he laughed, “there was a lot going on.”  
  
Having read the media coverage, you thought this was an understatement. Instead, you smiled hesitantly and told him, “I know. I was.” At the lightly puzzled expression on his face, you fumbled. “Sorry, I mean, yes, I was good. I mean, I wasn’t bad. I did all right for myself.”  
  
Sympathetically, Mokuba smiled at you, taking the moment to arrange his files. Then, suddenly, he lifted his head and stared at you for a short second, his face clearing as though he had just realized something. “Ah, hang on a second – I think I do recognize you. I was commissioner for Battle City, and I remember your dossier.”  
  
Your heart was already fluttering in your chest, desperately crashing against your ribs, but at this statement the flutter turned to a steady thump, pounding a drumbeat throughout your torso. A chill coursed through you, and time slowed around you as you noticed from the corner of your eye that Kaiba had stopped writing.  
  
Oblivious, Mokuba continued, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Hang on, let me see…yeah, I think you had a ranking of six? Or wait, wasn’t it seven?”  
  
Completely apart from your body, you heard yourself say the words, weakly, “Six originally, but I received a letter after I got back home that told me it had raised.”  
  
Stoically, Kaiba set his pen down, gently flipping the cover of his notebook closed with one finger. Painfully slow, you saw him straighten, his face a mask punctuated coolly by the infinitesimal narrowing of his eyes.  
  
As though in a cavern, the sound around you dulled, took on a tinny, faraway quality as Mokuba conveyed how impressed he was – the words themselves lost amidst the dull ring that began to build, low at first, then higher, sharper, more shrill until it was a painful scream in your ears. Forcing yourself to maintain the awkward smile on your face as Mokuba went on, your body went cold with horror when Kaiba stood, gathering his files in a neat pile with one sweep of his arm.  
  
This got Mokuba’s attention. “Eh? _Nii-sama_? The meeting is starting here soon.”  
  
A glance down at his brother, then a shrug. “I remembered there was something I have to look into. I’m going to send Shigeru down in a moment.”  
  
Mokuba looked unsure. “All right. He’s got the updated files, right?”  
  
Without looking back, Kaiba waved the stack of paperwork over his shoulder in answer before striding out the door, passing along the way a confused Date and Kitagawa, who exchanged puzzled looks with Mokuba, but otherwise said nothing, greeting you with aplomb.  
  
No time to address what had happened, as by this point everyone began to file in, Jennifer and Richard entered chatting with Chiba and Matsubara, and finally Dale and Justin, who both looked sweaty and respectively grouchy and triumphant. While Justin was regaling the group with his tale of heroism, you sidled up to Chiba, asking if there was a kitchenette nearby.  
  
“It’s tradition!” you lied through your teeth. “Not a proper meeting without coffee – or tea, if everyone prefers!”  
  
She tried to wave you down, insisting that it was her job, and certainly not something that you, a guest, should need to do – but you bowed deeply to her, insisting that you “won’t be a moment!” before rushing off in the direction she pointed.  
  
Hands shaking terribly, your breath came in ragged pants as you set the kettle to boil and prepared a tray of tea for everyone. By the time the water began to boil, you fell to your knees and let the whistle of the kettle drown out the sobs that wracked your chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhhh my god, I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to write this chapter. The imagery in this chapter is actually what literally sparked the idea for this fic – two parts in specific – and I’m so pleased that, even though things have evolved from my outline, it still came out more or less exactly how I envisioned it at the end of October. A couple of things changed, one major and two minor (one was a commentor's suggestion!), but the spirit of the thing is still there. UGH. Pleased.
> 
> Speaking of pleased! What a reaction from the last chapter, huh? Everyone’s comments have been so lovely, and I can’t thank everyone enough – you guys are so great, and you’ve been so patient while I’ve built everything up, and just. Guh. Y’all good to me.
> 
> Particular shout outs as always to Dreamcassette and guests for their kudos, and to everyone who chatted with me in the comments: sakuchwan, ScarletBelle87, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, haise_leonhart, thevillageofbree, and Dreamcassette. Y’all hype me up so much.
> 
> So! I know this one is hot off the heels of the last one, and I’m hoping that’s gonna make up for the next one: I don’t know for certain, but I have a feeling it will take a little longer than normal, because I just know there are parts that are going to be stressful for me to write. Additionally, it’s been recommended to me that we might like to see Richard and Jen’s fight? I may post that as a bonus scene on my Tumblr, [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com), so keep your eyes peeled!
> 
> Also! It is chapter ten (already!) and I did promise, so we’ll do a small giveaway – leave me a comment, and I’ll pick a winner at random to throw a prompt my way. Sound good?


	11. Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [And your heart only beats in a murmur, but your words ring out just like murder.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRsVZ0c-j_s)
> 
> Content warnings: mild harassment and mild violence.

Although Kaiba never returned to the conference room, the meeting went off without a hitch, all discomfort and awkwardness forgotten when it came time to get down to brass tacks. Justin, of course, objected when Kaiba’s secretary, a round-cheeked man named Shigeru, filled in for him as a proxy – however, Mokuba interjected smoothly that having the combination of himself and Shigeru was almost as good as having Kaiba, and the frustration was brought to rest without a stern shushing from Richard.  
  
You had managed to compose yourself by the time you brought the tray back into the conference room, and you were able to deliver your team’s work and findings with little ado, however you found yourself profoundly drained on the train ride back. With no impending business to distract you, your mind raced anew, furious and writhing, at the overwhelming turn of events the day had taken. When you exited on your floor with Jennifer, you felt a sinking sensation in your gut, and to avoid any unwanted visitors you had asked her if it was all right to stay in her room for the evening.  
  
Looking frazzled herself, she obliged, and the two of you shut and chained the door, obliquely ignoring any knocks that you heard at your and her door in favor of taking a quasi-girl’s night. Although it comprised simply of working in relative quiet on your respective laptops, it counted, as you shared some of the mini bottles of wine from the minibar and broke up the evening with small interjections of personal, if vague, sentiments.  
  
She didn’t open up fully about whatever argument you heard from the night before, and you did not open up fully about your conversation with Justin and subsequent interaction with the Kaiba brothers – and yet, as the night carried on, you felt a lightness in your chest at having found a space, at least this small pocket of time, where you could relax and simply breathe. There were moments when one or the other of you inched closer to the true issues at hand – “_Man, what was up with Justin during that meeting? He has been_ obsessed_ with seeing Kaiba,”_ or _“It isn’t like Richard to miss a number like that,”_ – but they were acknowledged and then dismissed with a short _hmm_, and it was understood that the subject did not bear discussing.  
  
For the first time in ages, you felt secure in your boundaries being respected, and were it not for the fear of having the illusion shattered at the naming of itself, you would have thanked her. Instead, you smiled gently and refilled her wine glass.  
  
When the hour grew late and the both of you could not control the yawns that came from you or the lightly dozing loll of your heads, you slunk back across the hall and snuggled into the bed.  
  
You woke the next morning with a start, heart pounding, and you sat up, jerking your head this way and that. Your alarm had not yet gone off, and you wondered what had woken you. Straining your hearing and pausing, you breathed a short sigh of relief as you realized that the knock had only been imagined. Calming yourself with a breath, you reminded yourself that there were few enough days left in the trip, and all you had to do was get through them.  
  
Quickly, you washed and made yourself ready, darting back across the hallway to sit with Jennifer while she readied herself as well – it was unsurprisingly little effort, and you felt both vindicated and insecure when, with a laugh, she admitted she had only woken a few moments ago and simply needed to splash some water on her face before she was ready to go.  
  
You laughed brightly when she winked at you, shaking a shooter in front of her face invitingly. “One for you road?”  
  
“If this trip gets any better, I might,” you joked in return, checking your watch. “We should probably go grab the boys.”  
  
Shrugging in a _suit yourself_ motion, she tossed the shooter into her purse and grabbed her coat, trailing after you. As you boarded the elevator, she cast a sidelong glance at you before saying, “If you want a few extra minutes to yourself, I can grab them, and we’ll just meet you in the lobby.”  
  
You could not stop the well of relief that sprang up in your chest, turning to her sharply and gushing, “That would be _great_.” At her laugh, you drew back. “I just mean – “  
  
“No, I know exactly what you mean.” Her grin turned catlike, and she skipped backward out of the elevator, waving somewhat as the doors closed. “They’re a lot. See you in a sec!”  
  
Sighing at the relief of your aloneness, you leaned heavily against the wall of the elevator, watching the floor display go down distractedly. In spending time with Jennifer, you had successfully distracted yourself from the brunt of your anxieties – but as a result, you hadn’t processed a lot of the information that had come in.  
  
It had been bad enough simply working on the project, but it was something that you had thought you could handle – from a distance. The Skype meeting was wretched – thanks in no small part to the immense weight of your new position, which you had truthfully forgotten about completely – but you made it through fine, and the project had gotten the green light. But then, it seemed, every day had been one thing after another, and you truly wondered at this point if you were fit to work on the project.  
  
Perhaps if you weren’t so _closely involved_. If you had been able to maintain that distance, you were sure, things would have been fine. Tense, to be sure, but ultimately fine.  
  
And honestly, you thought with a frown, if everything had just been business then the project wouldn’t be quite so…_messy_. Yes, you were sure you would still have had the attacks – that was a matter of hubris, for declining to be medicated – but it would have been straightforward navigation. Not smooth sailing, but at the very least with purpose. But whatever nonsense Justin was up to…  
  
You still couldn’t wrap your head around it, and the anger and anxiety curdled your innards to think of it. “_I’m not asking you to sleep with the guy_,” he had said – but what, exactly did he want? What was he expecting? That someone like Kaiba Seto would be swayed because, what, he hadn’t been scornful every second of a duel from over a decade ago?  
  
The elevator _ding_ed your arrival in time with your snort. If you had beaten him, perhaps it would be a different story, but all losers were the same to someone like Kaiba Seto.  
  
They were forgettable.  
  
Not for the first time since you had met him, you wondered in disdain at Justin’s…you hesitated to call it privilege, but he had fanciful, romantic notions of how the world worked that hinted very strongly at a past that had wanted for little. It’s possible you were wrong – you knew very little about him as a person – but your own upbringing had not necessarily been lacking, and you knew that this wasn’t how the world worked.  
  
Then again, it wasn’t exactly likely that Justin had ever dealt with what you had.  
  
You were thinking too hard about this, you decided with a shake of your head, stepping off the elevator. You just needed one good day, one calm day, unclouded by the heavy blanket of stress that had settled on your shoulders and refused to slip down. You just needed one day to be yourself, unburdened by these odd unspoken expectations.  
  
You would confront him tonight. Knock on his door, disturb his peace, and demand an explanation.  
  
You just needed to get through the day. With a tired glance, you saw that Dale was waiting in the lobby, tapping away at his laptop. He hadn’t noticed you quite yet, focused on whatever he was working; he was a picture of skewed, his hat angled rakishly back against his perpetually messy, dark hair, and his long legs cocked at angles akimbo from the low seat.  
  
You made your way closer, settling your features into a smile, trying hard to be pleasant despite your anxiety – Justin wasn’t Dale’s fault, after all. “Good morning, Dale,” you called softly, pulling up beside him, seating yourself against the armrest of his seat and leaning in to see what he was doing – he appeared to be emailing his notes from the previous meeting and the dinner to the team Stateside.  
  
He looked up at you, adjusting his hat somewhat self-consciously, snapping the computer closed. “Hey. Morning.” True to fashion, he kept his eyes from you but for brief flickers, adjusting himself in the seat, bumping his shoulder against your thigh – at this, he stood abruptly.  
  
Somewhat amused, you rose as well, excusing his apology with a brief, “S’all right. Jen is grabbing the other two.”  
  
Dale nodded shortly, readjusting his cap again, tugging the brim down. “Told ‘em we should wait down here,” he muttered. After only beat, no time for you to ask what he meant, he glanced up and held your gaze solidly, continuing, “Actually, now’s a good time.”  
  
Canting your head, the amused expression remained on your face. “Now? For what?”  
  
The look on his face became serious then, a tiny furrow forming between his brows, his lips downturning only slightly – although it was a subtle change, it stood out on his features, normally so relaxed. “Yeah. Been trying to catch you, but…” Here he trailed off and, it seemed mildly embarrassed, he shifted his gaze to scan the lobby before resting on you again.  
  
Blinking, you simply said, “Oh.” In retrospect, you supposed that he had been making attempts to speak with you, though you hadn’t had the chance to notice. “I’m sorry, I guess with everything… I’m sorry,” you repeated, stepping in. “What did you want to talk about?”  
  
Maintaining the intense eye contact, as he was wont, he drew a level breath. “I just wanna make sure you aren’t sleeping with Justin.”  
  
Whatever you had been expecting to hear – something about the project, most certainly, perhaps using one of his renderings for ad copy, or for his team to make a trip out to San Francisco to tour the Industrial Illusions site, or even perhaps an inquisition into the state of your health as a broach into actual friendship – it was _not_ that. _That_, in truth, hit you squarely in the chest with the force of a freight train, and you exhaled your disbelief.  
  
Perhaps you had heard incorrectly. The corners of your mouth turned up, prepared for him to break into a matching grin to reveal that he was simply fucking with you. “I’m sorry?”  
  
He closed his eyes in time with his sigh, opening them to maintain the intense eye contact. “It’s just, you guys have been, I dunno, getting closer, and I just wanted to make sure.” He shifted his stance, visibly attempting to loosen the tension in the set of his shoulders and failing.  
  
The expectant smile remained on your lips. “You ‘wanted to make sure’,” you echoed. “You wanted to make sure that I wasn’t having sex with my boss? Our boss?” You gestured at the space between you with a finger, tilting your head in the other direction.  
  
Either he didn’t catch the tone in your voice, or it didn’t phase him. “Yeah. Like I said, I guess with everything going on in the project, it looks like you two have been getting closer – or he’s just been getting closer, I don’t know, but – “  
  
“The literal CEO of the company we both work for?” you cut him off to further elaborate, the disbelief cracking your tone, the plastered grin slipping from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the elevators open and the remainder of your party step off.  
  
Dale glanced over at them sharply before returning his focus to you, lowering his voice. “Look, I’m just making sure,” he said. It was the closest he had ever come to snapping at you, and that was what truly took the breath from you.  
  
You pressed your palms together, steepling your fingers against your lips to keep yourself from blurting anything out. Your mind burbled with plenty of ill-thought-out retorts, immediate, rash – you truly were not sure of the best way to respond in the time you were given. Breathing in a quick sigh, you bit out, “This really isn’t the best and most appropriate time and place for this, bud.”  
  
An eyebrow cocked, but by this time Justin had slung an arm over his shoulders, rendering the moment moot.  
  
Whatever excitement Justin babbled as he steered your group onto the sidewalk, you were unable to hear it. Your head throbbed with the flurry of stimuli – a cacophony of voices clamored for your attention, all deep, all male, all clawing against the inner walls of your skull.  
  
Perhaps catching your scowl, perhaps simply wanting to distance herself from whatever was happening in her world, Jennifer detached from Richard, and from Justin and Dale, and slipped her arm through yours as your party made your way to the train.  
  
Yet another awkward train ride passed by, lacking the blissful silence at Justin’s refusal to let well enough lie – you weren’t certain if he could sense the weight in the air, but you had a feeling he knew, he simply didn’t care. Or he cared too much and thought this was the solution for all this ennui. Watching him carefully out of the corner of your eye as he tried very hard to animate the train car, you realized that you were no closer to predicting him than you had been months ago.  
  
Richard collected the visitor’s badges from the receptionist at the front desk and handed them out at her pert announcement that everyone was awaited in the same conference room from the day before. Richard acknowledged her with a brief nod, and Jennifer mimicked, though offering her a polite smile; you bowed to her as everyone made their way to the elevator, and you swiveled on your heel to catch up.  
  
Filing into the conference room, you greeted the KaibaCorp team, who had all in fact assembled ahead of you – Chiba bowed separately to you, gesturing to the tray of tea that she had prepared in anticipation of your arrival. Greetings were exchanged, and Mokuba shook Justin’s hand, clapping his shoulder as he gestured for him to take the seat to his right.  
  
Bustling in, out of breath but trying desperately to hide the appearance of it, Kaiba’s secretary Shigeru took the seat on Mokuba’s other side – they exchanged something in low tones, leaning in, and Mokuba shrugged a shoulder, gesturing to Kitagawa to turn on the projector.  
  
You felt more than saw Justin tense, though before he could say anything Richard spoke up from across the table. “Mokuba, your brother isn’t joining this meeting?”  
  
The man winked good-naturedly, gesturing to Shigeru. “Sorry to disappoint, looks like it’s me and Shigeru again. _Nii-sama_ said he had some stuff come up in our Kyoto office, so he’s planning to head down there for the rest of the week – you’re in good hands, I’ve been doing this a long time, too! I promise I’m not just a handsome face.”  
  
Jennifer gave a familiar false laugh, reassuring the KaibaCorp team that they had all more than earned your team’s trust, and Richard clapped Justin on the shoulder with a laugh and a pointed, “Right?”  
  
Uncomfortable, Justin shifted in his seat, but nodded, a smile creeping across his face. “Word, for sure! We got this, dude!” He leveled and fired a finger gun, which Mokuba returned before turning to Richard. In that split second as the meeting began and the attention was diverted, Justin allowed his eyes to flick to yours and the façade slipped.  
  
Making it through the meeting felt like pulling teeth – not for lack of preparation, certainly. Everyone seated at the table spoke about their department’s work and hopes with competence and efficiency, but Kaiba’s absence, especially after his abrupt departure the day before, spoke volumes louder than his presence had. With a sinking feeling, you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t because of you – by the time everyone stood, pleased on the surface, you still had not yet succeeded.  
  
More than that, you were certain that you were the reason he refused to be present with your team.  
  
Distracted by yet another new piece of information, you straggled behind the group out of the conference room, hanging back. If that was truly the case and he didn’t want to be around you, for one reason or another, then why not just cut it off entirely? Surely he wouldn’t let his team drag yours on if he didn’t think there was a future. You couldn’t imagine Kaiba Seto doing a thing with any group of people that he didn’t want, and certainly not within his own business.  
  
So busied with your own thoughts, you missed the elevator with the rest of your team. You pressed the button to call it again, and felt the gentle tug of fingertips in the crook of your elbow, looking up and sighing.  
  
“Now’s a good time to finish our conversation.” Dale’s tone was soft but insistent. He attempted to pull you away from the elevator back to the empty conference room, but you simply sighed again.  
  
“I wasn’t aware it needed to be finished. It’s a really ridiculous thing to think – “  
  
This brought a light flush to Dale’s cheeks underneath the stubble. “It’s not that strange. He’s always right there, and you let him – “  
  
“No, it really is ridiculous.” You kept your gaze steady on his, hoping the weight of your exhaustion would bring the conversation to its conclusion.  
  
“It’s not,” Dale ground out, repeating himself, “He’s always right there with you, and he’s got his hands on you, and he _looks at you_ – “  
  
“Dale, I don’t know what you think is happening or why – no, don’t just repeat yourself – but I’m telling you that you’re wrong. I’m telling you it’s ridiculous.” You weren’t sure which part was getting lost in translation, but this discussion had already more than run its course, and you were becoming irritated. “If he’s always ‘right there’, it’s because we’re all in the same hotel in the same foreign country for the same business trip – remember the game we’re pitching with some modicum of success? You have kind of a big part in it – “  
  
“Yeah, but we’re on the same trip together, too, and I’ve barely seen you.”  
  
That threw you for a loop. “I’m sorry, you’ve what? We’ve gone to all the same places, been in all the same meetings – “  
  
In an uncharacteristic display of dominance, Dale straightened his posture and came to his full height. He didn’t tower over you in the way that Justin did, but Dale was broader, and with the current mood that rolled from him in waves, you shrank back somewhat. “But I’m not the one who’s always in your room.”  
  
“No,” you agreed uncertainly, glancing back at the elevator – what was taking it so long? “And honestly, no one should always be in my room. But he’s just checking on me after I – “  
  
“_I_ was checking on you, and he was there.” His pitch lowered more with each word until he reached a growl.  
  
Wishing desperately for some way to end this conversation, you inhaled, trying again, holding up a hand gently in what you hoped was a mollifying gesture. “And I appreciate that both of you were doing that. Everyone has been really great about it, and I’m sorry if it feels like I’m not acknowledging your concern, I just – “  
  
He took a step closer, and you shrank back further, your fingertips grazing against the closed elevator doors. You became acutely aware of the hairs on your arms raising when he lowered his voice further; “So acknowledge my concern.”  
  
“I – okay, um. Thank you, Dale, for your – no, that’s not what you – “  
  
_Ding_.  
  
Your heartbeat had reached its crescendo when you felt the gentle _whoosh_ of the doors behind you, and you were prepared to be grateful for the interruption. At the snort, though, and the sardonic aside in Japanese, you felt the bottom drop from your stomach. Without looking back, you knew who was on the elevator.  
  
“Move,” the voice clipped out in unaccented English.  
  
You complied, sliding meekly to one side, simultaneously relieved at a break in the tension and chilled as Kaiba glided from the elevator, stopping just beyond you, still situated bodily between you and your teammate as he turned to face his critically, his arms crossed. “You are guests here at KaibaCorporation’s behest, but if you have private matters to discuss I suggest that you do so outside of my building.”  
  
Unflinching, Dale shifted his stance somewhat, and his mouth opened as though to say something – you saw the scene as though in slow motion, and you felt your heart rattling in your chest.  
  
Kaiba cut him off with the barest glance and nod at the closing elevator doors. “You’re going to miss your ride,” he said coolly, turning on his heel with Shigeru trailing just beyond.  
  
Taking the opportunity, you slipped inside just as the doors shut, pressing a hand against your chest, forcing yourself to breathe evenly as you jabbed a finger against the button for the ground floor. Dale could catch the next elevator, you reasoned, working through a battery of quick exercises you remembered from your early sessions with Dr. Lucas just before the elevator halted. Although you knew it would follow just after you, you still bustled across the lobby to meet the rest of your party, not wanting to be caught unawares again.  
  
You fidgeted terribly during the train ride back, a mere step above shaking, and once the train stopped moving you burst from the cabin, walking quickly and slightly ahead of your party back to the hotel. You offered them the barest excuse of fatigue before shunting yourself into the stairwell to avoid the elevator, heaving yourself up the stairs three at a time, bursting into the corridor on your floor and scurrying back to your room, shutting the door firmly behind you and falling back against it, sliding to the floor to catch your breath.  
  
Your vision began to blur and darken, dots springing from your periphery, and you squeezed your eyes shut, counting down from ten once, twice, once more to gain control of your breathing, willing your heart to calm into a comfortable pattern and ignoring the tears that began to well in the corners of your eyes.  
  
You weren’t sure how long passed before you heard a shuffling outside your door, and despite holding your breath you still jumped at the single knock. There was a pause where you considered ignoring it, and frantically your eyes scanned the room in search of Takahashi-_sensei_’s card again. Gentle murmurs sounded from the other side of the door, two voices softly back-and-forthing, then, louder, you heard Richard speak your name through the door.  
  
“Let me in, please.”  
  
Your throat let out a soft helpless _hmmmm_, not quite a groan, before you raised your voice to respond, your pitch high and tense. “Hey, Richard, yeah, I don’t really – “  
  
Softly but firmly, nearer to you as though he had kneeled, you heard his voice cut you off. “Just me and Jen. Open the door, please.”  
  
After only the briefest moment of consideration, debating the chances of you opening the door and finding the entire team in the hallway before dismissing it as absurd – _Dick wouldn’t lie to me_ – you hauled yourself from the floor and gently cracked the door, moving into the living area without looking back at them and depositing yourself into the armchair, your knees drawing up.  
  
The next few moments were a bit of a blur, your senses swimming through thick jelly to bring the scene to your brain: with Jen perched on the arm of your chair, Dick seated himself, elbows propped on his knees, his fingers threaded and his posture open as he leaned toward you and simply said, “Explain what’s been going on.”  
  
At first you tried being dismissive, playing of the same _it’s not that bad_ that you had been, but from the instant charge of energy in the room you cut yourself off. That wasn’t good enough anymore. Not now, that your problems were no longer your own.  
  
So, hesitantly, you explained in the vaguest terms your condition – still taking great care to use generic, downplaying language, hoping that Jennifer was only here in her capacity as the company’s legal representative – and elaborated that you had history with Kaiba. Stumbling over your words, you admitted that this was why Justin had brought you here, and why he had promoted you. Taking in a deep breath, you continued that he had visited you the morning previous, and you outlined what he had told you to the best of your understanding.  
  
The words came from you in a tumble then, admitting (but not elaborating) that you believed you were the reason Kaiba did not sit on the two meetings, and rushing through your experiences with Justin and Dale.  
  
You could see Richard tense, and either he had begun to shake or you had. He raised a hand as tears stung your eyes and you began to loop back to things you had already said; his face was beginning to color, but the expression was stone. He waited for you to trail off, turning the hand slowly, slowly to pinch the bridge of his nose.  
  
“So let me clarify,” he said finally, voice low and unbreaking. “Justin brought us here because…because you _dueled_ Kaiba in a tournament and…this _duel_ made you…” here he gestured with the same hand briefly, only to immediately bring it back to rub his sinuses.  
  
Before you could respond in the affirmative and explain again, he stood up, back very straight, and walked to your door. He did not slam it as he exited, although you suspected this was simply due to the rigidty of his movements – so tense was every part of him that he moved slowly, carefully.  
  
You exchanged a look of alarm with Jen. “Where is he…?” you began, jumping up yourselves to follow him. “Dick? Please don’t, I – “ you called after him as he trotted down the flight of stairs to the male suites.  
  
Though not a tall man, his legs ate the distance to Justin’s suite quickly, and he rapped a knuckle sharply against the door, pushing himself in silently without waiting to be acknowledged. Blinking his confusion, Justin stepped back and held the door when he saw you and Jennifer trailing behind.  
  
Richard paced a series of three steps, then back, before stilling. He crossed his arms over his chest, pinning Justin with a severe look. “Where’s this duel?” was all he said.  
  
Justin glanced sharply over to you, his expression unreadable, but before he could answer you spoke up, heat coloring your cheeks intensely. “Dick, no, I don’t – “  
  
Richard did not turn to face you, taking a stride to close the gap between him and Justin. “Find it now.”  
  
“Dick, she just said – “  
  
“Justin, you need to make this shit make sense right fucking now.”  
  
For once, instead of shooting back with something, Justin simply sighed, his posture deflating slightly as he propped his hands on his hips in a brief moment of resignation. Bringing his hands up to a light shrug, he grabbed the tablet from the coffee table, swiping the screen a couple times and tapping once to get to the appropriate video. He hesitated only slightly, not looking at you though you felt his attention like a lump in your throat, before handing the tablet to Richard.  
  
Richard did not sit, but kept himself rigid, his eyes fixed on the screen. Jennifer came up behind him, peering over his shoulder to watch as well, her face a careful mask of contemplation, despite the sparkle in her eyes.  
  
Even across the room, you heard the sound effects coming from the tablet’s poor speakers, and you hugged yourself tightly. Every nerve was on fire, and you shook continuously, flinching with every gasp and burst and explosion, feeling apart of the situation when you heard your younger self trading barbs and commands with the younger version of Kaiba. By the time the second Blue Eyes came onto the field, you were entirely separate of your body, as though watching the scene from and open window across the way; your breathing came shallow, and your skin went cold, fingers numb.  
  
You felt more than heard the crackle of lightning course through you, the enormous fist colliding with your chest once again after all these years, and very distantly you heard the clatter as the tablet hit the ground. Sluggishly, you raised your head just in time to see Richard’s fist connect with Justin’s open mouth. Whatever Justin had been about to say was lost, and Richard surged forward, fingers reaching for Justin’s lapel to pull him in for another strike.  
  
Numbly, you heard Jennifer scream, and after a short moment she burst forward, wrapping both arms around Richard’s drawn back fist, pulling him back bodily.  
  
For his part, Justin did not struggle as Richard hit him – when released, he simply let his back hit the wall and slid to the floor. His face was a mess of blood – whether it was from his nose or mouth, or from Richard’s knuckles was impossible to tell – but nevertheless his lips formed a grotesque, lopsided grin. He laughed somewhat, baring teeth streaked with blood.  
  
Jen was frantically trying to get Richard to calm, but he writhed against her furiously, spitting venom – Justin simply continued to laugh, perhaps from shock, perhaps from genuine amusement at the situation – until finally she was able to firmly push Richard into the couch and silence him.  
  
“We’re going home,” she announced, her voice taking on a steel that she rarely had occasion to adopt. “We are leaving on the next fucking plane. This is absolutely ridiculous – Justin, I can’t believe that you would put everyone at risk over _such a stupid_ – “  
  
“It got us here,” he laughed, voice throaty around the words. The macabre, blood-stained toothy smile still cocked his lips. “It got us here, and it’s _working_. We need to stay.”  
  
“_No_. We need to get home so that I can look into this more – what if KaibaCorp finds out and pursues action against us for this? What if _she does?_ Justin, this was so _thoughtless_ – “  
  
“_Not thoughtless_ – look, everything is going perfectly, according to pl – “  
  
“_Perfectly?_ Justin, are you _insane, _she’s been having attacks _every day_, what if she has a heart attack?”  
  
“It’s all going according to plan! Except for a couple hiccoughs – “  
  
“Hiccoughs, he says! Absolutely not, we need to _leave_.”  
  
“Not while this partnership is going so well. At the very least, she and Dale can stay. We need them here to - "  
  
This jolted you back to life. Ignoring the hubbub about you, you allowed sensation to flood back to your body. You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, opening your eyes sharply on your exhale. You took a single step into the proverbial line of fire, raising your chin, making brief eye contact with Jennifer and Richard before settling on Justin, gazing steadily down your nose at him.  
  
“Justin, if you leave me here with all of this, I swear to god, I will quit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haaaaaaayy. This one only took a little bit longer than the others, which wasn’t bad, considering I’ve been sick and – tbvh – kinda avoiding writing this one. Not like actively, but parts of this chapter stressed me out quite a bit. But there’s been another scene that had a super stark visual for me that I’d been _dying_ to write, so it was worth it.
> 
> Speaking of worth it! You guys! Are so good to me! Thank you so, _so_ much to everyone who left kudos: ProspitianHeroOfHeart, Dreamatorium, Catoptromancer, rapidas21 and guests; and thank you for everyone who commented: sakuchwan, haise_leonhart, MorgannePhaedras, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, Haziko Kunai, Truth Teller, and ScarletBelle87, Gale, 6f0909, and thevillageofbree. And my Tumblr lovelies as well: dabi-haze, scion-renais, solidarity-khrsoul, and all of the amazing anons. Y’alls’ support elevates me to a higher plane of existence, stg.
> 
> And as I promised in the last chapter’s notes, the randomly selected winner is: **Truth Teller**! Go ahead and leave me a comment here or shoot me an ask on Tumblr, and I’ll grab a prompt from you to write! I’ll try to post it before or at the same time as the next update.
> 
> As always, if you like what you see here and you'd like to see a little more behind the scenes, check out my writing Tumblr [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com). We have fun.


	12. Angry Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [So take your parasites away and keep them somewhere far from me.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYtFEk1B-ZE)

At your word, the trip had ended. Though he wasn’t willing to risk the partnership, Justin wasn’t willing to lose his greatest piece in the game either, and the morbid executive’s meeting had come to the agreement that you four would travel back to the US, and that Rebecca would take your place to finish the final days of the trip with Dale. Given that she had worked so closely with you, she knew the ins and outs of your proposed marketing strategy, and she had worked well with Dale on previous projects.  
  
For your part, you could not have given half of a shit whether the partnership fell through at that point, and as time went on your rage only grew, simmering and festering into a potent bitterness in the pit of your chest. The words you had said in Justin’s suite that night ended up being the last that you said in Domino, and you conveyed everything else that needed to be conveyed through the sheer force of your facial expression.  
  
Jennifer had taken charge entirely, aghast that she remained the only sane man, and had forbidden everyone from speaking to you unless they had your go-ahead. She had briefed Dale personally behind the closed door of his suite, and would not say anything further on the matter.  
  
Once you had arrived back in the States, you had called for your own cab home, excusing yourself by meeting Jennifer’s eye and simply saying, “I’ll shoot you an email when I get to my apartment.” And true to your word, once you had shut the door, you sat down and composed an email requesting an immediate leave of absence, slapping the laptop shut and stripping from your travel soiled clothes to shower.  
  
Your request had been granted before you turned the water on.

* * *

_It had taken the medical staff some time to contact your parents – between your exhaustion and your fits of mania, they were scarcely able to get viable information from you, and eventually rummaged through your scant belongings to find emergency contact information. Once your mother and father heard what had happened to you, though, they had booked the immediate next flight out, and upon waking from a particularly intense fever dream you found your mother curled up in a chair by your bedside.  
  
__They had attempted to get you to speak to them, to tell them what had happened – the nurses, and eventually doctor, had revealed in broadest terms, but because you were over the age of majority, they couldn’t disclose specifics.  
  
__They understood as best they could, given the amount of information they didn’t have, and tried to let you come back to yourself in your time – they refused to accept that your new reality was one of skittish, morose silence.  
  
__While your mother negotiated with the medical staff on how long it would take before you were able to leave, your father spent his time with your hand in his, the other hand stroking at your hair softly as you stared out the window. By and large, he allowed the long stretches of silence, but there were moments when he attempted to gain a response from you.  
  
__He spoke to you of all of the things you had given up in coming to the tournament: of postcards and paper-wrapped care parcels from Burgundy, of college acceptance letters, of a litter that your grandmother’s dog had had. He even, cautiously, attempted to goad you into speaking about the tournament, to ask how far you had gotten, would you have any trophies to bring home, and did you use the cards he and your mother had given you?  
  
__It was during one of these moments that you felt it for the first time, an odd sort of serpentine ripple coming from the depths of your chest cavity. You jerked and frowned, and brought a hand to your sternum, rubbing at it, hoping the bizarre sensation would abate.  
  
__“Oh that’s strange,” you heard your father say idly, “where did this storm come from?”  
  
__And in a flash, you understood. You felt the shift in the pressure of the air around you, and you felt the shift inside of you, deep, deep within your spirit, pressing you down into submission. Your eyes shot to the window as a peal of lightning tore across the sky, and far in the distance you saw the great blue hulking shoulders emerge, wrapping around the edges of a great amphitheatre in the clouds.  
  
__The heart monitor _bing-bing-bing_ed its displeasure, and you screamed._

* * *

“And what was it, do you think, about seeing him from that distance caused you to have this flashback?”  
  
You picked at a piece of lint from the upholstery of the couch absently; any excuse not to make eye contact.  
  
It was not, certainly, that Dr. Lucas was an imposing presence, or had ever expressed anything harsher than bland disappointment even at your worst, it was simply the _being there_. You had made a pact with yourself, years ago, that once you had stopped seeing her, that you would never go back – and, indeed, the last time you had seen her she had announced pleasantly that your timing was impeccable, as she was planning her retirement. You thought that that would have clinched it for you: if you didn’t have to visit a therapist, you were cured, and everything was great.  
  
Dr. Tucker, predictably, had not been restrained in his disappointment. He was not surprised, he let you know matter-of-factly, rewriting the prescription with a sharper flourish than was strictly necessary, ripping it from the pad and holding it expectantly in front of your face. Chastened, you made for it, and he snatched it back slightly, pointing a finger at you sternly and telling you, in no uncertain terms, that you _would_ be going to see Dr. Lucas again. When you had brought up her retirement, he had simply snuffled and informed you that he had already called her.  
  
You flexed your fingers into the familiar worn velvet ridges of her couch. You felt like _such a child_.  
  
Gently, Dr. Lucas called your attention back to her and repeated her question patiently.  
  
“I couldn’t say,” you answered automatically. “I guess it was just because it was the first time seeing him in person. Since…then.”  
  
“And seeing him from photos hadn’t triggered any reactions? You subscribe to that magazine for duelists, don’t you? And what about any of the tournaments you had entered in college?”  
  
“You know they didn’t trigger anything, Dr. Lucas.”  
  
Her smile creased the corners of her eyes pleasantly. “You don’t have to snap, dear. Thinking it through in a safe environment is the first step to making these stop.”  
  
“I thought the first step was admitting to having a problem?” It tumbled from your mouth churlishly, and you stamped down the regret at having said it.  
  
Her laugh left her lips with a tinkle. “We’re well past that, don’t you think?”  
  
Your cheeks pinkening, you flinched and shot her an apologetic look.  
  
It had been difficult to get back into the habit of seeing the two doctors, but try as you might, they weren’t letting you off easy this time. Upon your initial return from Battle City, you had gone through the motions with them, and if they knew that you had been manipulating them into thinking your recovery was going faster than it was, they said nothing. But this time, a decade later, they were not so forgiving – their insights were sharper and more direct, and they followed every appointment with a phone call to discuss next steps and they laid out consequences in terms with significantly less fluff.  
  
In short, they were treating you like an adult. While making it clear that they wished for your wellbeing, they expected something from you in return: effort. And they made it clear that they would brook no disrespect from you.  
  
It was a strange routine to get yourself into, but the rational part of your brain knew it had to happen. Jennifer’s gag order still seemed to be in effect, and this allowed you to calm down after the trip to Domino, allowed you to realize what you needed in order to do your job. Even if it was a job that had been thrust upon you, you were determined to do it right.  
  
And the first hurdle was ensuring this partnership with KaibaCorp went well. If that meant you had to tackle your blue-eyed demons, then so be it.  
  
Moreso than the last times you had seen her, Dr. Lucas grasped the situation quickly enough – her only admonishment being a blithe, “Such a shame we weren’t able to work through this before.” It was as much a scolding as you would get from her, but it still stung. Acknowledging the elephant in the room, though, had allowed her to pinpoint exactly what it was she believed was holding you back – and in true shrink fashion, she obfuscated it, dropping crumbs here and there and smiling her eye-crinkling smile when you dropped the stubbornness and picked up on something.  
  
On top of your bi-weekly sessions with Drs. Lucas and Tucker, after the first couple of weeks Jennifer had reached out to you under the pretense of needing a “_girl’s night_”. You had sat through enough dinners and conference room meetings with her that you knew when she was being false, but you took the gesture for what it was: she wanted to check on you. So, every so often she brought over a bottle of wine and some files from the project, and occasionally she brought her fiancé as well, and you and Jennifer talked shop while he busied himself in your kitchen.  
  
Oddly, hearing tales from the office was not quite so frazzling as you felt anyone would have expected – even Dr. Lucas was surprised to discover that it was not the work itself that was drawing such a strong reaction from you. Each session she allowed you to share your thoughts on having Jennifer and Richard over, until it simply became understood that the best nights for them to come over was the day before you saw Dr. Lucas.  
  
Dr. Tucker, for his part, took his cues from Dr. Lucas – he understood that, by and large, the trigger for the issue was psychological in nature, but the root cause was cardiovascular. Since the trust between you had eroded so deeply, he started at the very bottom and you and he worked your way up: diet, sleeping habits, level of activity. When you mentioned that you had been considering taking up running again, he had forbidden you for the first couple of weeks, but acquiesced after you assured him that you had been taking brisk walks whenever you could under Dr. Lucas’s instruction.  
  
You enjoyed moving, and moreso now than you ever had: the crunch of gravel underneath your feet reminded you that you were not trapped, dissipated any sense of claustrophobia before it could take root in you, effectively grounding you in the present moment. The first time you hit the pavement you had taken your usual route from years before, but, after dropping into the café you used to frequent, you felt an unease in the pit of your stomach and decided maybe it was time to check out one of the parks nearby instead.  
  
Slowing to a walk for your cooldown, you propped hands on your hips and breathed. You checked the notifications on your phone, absently swiping into a text from Jennifer – it was a night they were intending on coming over, and was risotto all right? You replied, and immediately she sent back a picture of a monster rendering with a series of exclamation points. Zooming in to inspect it, you smiled, impressed; everything certainly was coming together.  
  
It helped, as well, that you had very slowly begun to teach Jennifer and Richard how to duel – at Dr. Lucas’s behest. She rationalized that, at the very least, it would make the project run smoother if the key players on board were, as it were, in fact, players – and best case, she continued, it would allow you to engage in the behavior in an undeniably safe environment, and encourage you to open up to someone other than a paid professional about what you had had to go through.  
  
You had put it off for a while after she brought it up, but eventually caved, calling your parents to see if they still had your dueling paraphernalia. They had dug out a series of boxes from their basement and you picked the boxes up, taking the excuse to sit and have dinner with your parents.  
  
The first session had simply been explaining the rules to Jennifer and Richard, setting up mock scenarios with shaking hands on your dining room table while Jennifer watched keenly over the rim of her wine glass. You took your time, breathing evenly, calling out card formations and descriptions to Richard as he cooked. They both very politely ignored the quiver in your voice. By the second session they had cobbled together a shared deck of their own, and you walked them through a halting demonstration game. It was by the third session that Richard beat you, and Dr. Lucas recommended allowing your deck to evolve – “_just like you have_,” she explained patiently.  
  
You glanced at your watch. There was time to run to the game shop and still get home to shower before they arrived. Though you had been taking her advice, you had been doing it piecemeal – from the renderings of the cards that would be in the game, you knew which ones you wanted in your deck, especially from having shifted back ever-so-subtly into the duelist mindset, but there was something about having an actual set of cards in your hand that caused your heart to leap into your throat, sirens blaring _danger_ in your head.  
  
With this purchase today, though, you guessed your new deck was about 80% complete.  
  
“And then Richard will get what-for,” you mumbled to yourself, tucking your receipt into a pocket and rifling through the cards.  
  
They arrived promptly at 6:15, as they always did, greeting you with familiarity; they bustled into your apartment, Jennifer kicking her shoes off and making a beeline for the bottle opener while Richard deposited shopping bags on the counters.  
  
“We’ve sent the final drafts to KaibaCorp for programming,” Jen announced, pushing a glass of red into your hands and seating herself comfortably in her usual seat at your dining room table. “They’re gonna be doing a lot of the heavy lifting from here.”  
  
Richard said nothing, but between the clangor of the pots and pans, you could have sworn you heard a soft snort. Since arriving back in the States, he had reverted back to his usual composure, keeping himself composed and his reactions much closer to the chest. Whenever she sensed he was about to say anything, Jen would shoot him a sharp glance – though a lot of the nuance was lost on you, it was most certainly clear that there was a volume of conversation behind every look they shared.  
  
You took a delicate sip, adjusting the playmats to gather your thoughts. “Projected dates?” you asked mildly, riffle shuffling your deck while Jen awkwardly overhand shuffled.  
  
“As expected,” Richard called from the kitchen, his head deep in your spice cabinet. “Am I going first again this time?”  
  
“If you want. You won last time.” You nodded to Jennifer, who drew. “So we’re on track to start releasing print, right?”  
  
Leaning across the counter briefly to catch a glimpse at the hand, Richard make a sound of affirmation. “That’s what it looks like. Babe, second-left facedown and farthest right in defense.”  
  
Jennifer complied, taking a neat sip of her wine. “And we’ve got your contacts in Domino – and apparently Rebecca wrangled a few of her own? They’re all clamoring for a press release. The US publications are a little more lukewarm, but we’re still expecting spreads in the next couple of weeks.”  
  
“I’m not surprised,” you replied, canting your head side to side before playing a nothing monster and a trap out of caution. You waved a hand to end your turn. “The last real champion we had was Keith Howard, and he ended up being…well, a tool. Not a sterling national representative, we’ll say.”  
  
“Dick, I’m playing farthest left now,” Jennifer called, not waiting for the muffled okay. “Yeah, Keith left a lot to be desired,” she continued, laughing sarcastically. “Way to portray us all as drunken cheaters, dude. Wasn’t Rebecca a hot contender for a while? I attack your facedown monster.”  
  
You flipped it over, showing the higher defense points, shrugging noncommittally. “I think so. She was the darling for a while when Howard disappeared, but she faded out around when I did. Polymerization, trap card Blast With Chain. Gonna add this equip for good measure.”  
  
Jen let out a low whistle, pressing her palm to the top of their deck in surrender. “Shit that was fast. Dick, did you see that?” Behind her shoulder you saw him make a face. Jennifer continued without looking back at him, “If you’re already this good again, do you think you’re gonna be able to face down Kaiba again?”  
  
Her tone was teasing, but at the very thought your cards spewed from your hands mid-shuffle. The barest edges of your vision blackened, and you felt bile rise in your throat like heartburn. Flashing her a somber look, you breathed in through your nose, letting it out slowly. Hands shaking, you leaned from your seat to pick up the cards that had fallen to the floor.  
  
“Jen.” Richard appeared from the kitchen bearing flatware and silverware.  
  
“I’m sorry, I was super kidding – but you’ve improved a lot really fast. I’m just saying.” Her tone was unapologetic, but she let the matter lie, sweeping from her seat to follow her fiancé back into the kitchen to help finish cooking.

* * *

That night, and several afterward, your dreams shifted from their usual stark flashbacks – where you had become accustomed to being terrified by the ghastly lipless grin of Obelisk, those enormous fists reaching for you while lightning streaked a midday sky, it had largely been silent, or at the very most a persistent buzzing in your ears, somewhere between radio static and a swarm of hornets.  
  
That night, though, it was mostly dark and very cold, and you felt a huge emptiness spread from your chest while a deep voice chuckled in the distance, echoing off of the blackness.  
  
Dr. Lucas had jumped at the news, her face shrewd and alive underneath the sweet wrinkled façade. She pressed you, insisting that if the flashbacks had changed, then so had you – your outlook, your reaction must had evolved if your subconscious was sending you a different signal.  
  
You agreed blandly, but frankly weren’t too keen on discussing it.  
  
“I understand dear,” Dr. Lucas said softly, leaning forward and patting the armrest next to you gently. “But if you can’t understand what’s happening in your own head, you’ll never get past it.”  
  
Sighing, you agreed begrudgingly, and allowed her to follow her train of thought, asking question after question until you were truly too exhausted to continue.  
  
Eventually, a solid two months after you had returned home from the tragic journey, you felt strong enough to return to the office. You briefed Jennifer on your return, and she reassured you that there was nothing to worry about – all parties involved in the Domino trip had been informed which topics to avoid and with which parties, and Dale would be staying within his department unless summoned.  
  
“And Justin has been spending a lot of time lately with the board, so.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Fat chance of having to deal with him first thing in the morning.”  
  
So relieved, you made your way through the lobby, tracing your familiar route to the elevator and hesitatingly only briefly before opting for the stairs instead.  
  
Your return was welcomed with little ado – duplicates of the reports from the last two months sat waiting on your desk, organized as though someone had come in and arranged them. Your inbox, though you checked it occasionally during your leave, was a horrorshow, and you spent most of your morning clearing through it: deleting, following up on responses, and organizing whatever had gotten past your inbox’s rules.  
  
Early in the afternoon, you heard a soft knock at your door and swiveled, waving for Richard to come in. Seating himself, he handed a folder to you and propped his ankle on the opposite knee. “Wanted to share the numbers we got from the print ad release.”  
  
“Oh, wonderful. Hang on, I’ve got the sentiment reports here from the teaser we released on social – “  
  
“Yeah, saw those. Have you already sent that over to Date and Kitagawa?”  
  
You nodded, flipping through the sheets he’d given you. As Jen had predicted, the US publications’ sales had only barely bumped, but Domino was easily double, triple those figures. “Do you think the States are gonna be a problem?” You wiggled your mouse to bring your computer back to life to access the sentiment report your team had sent, but Richard waved you down.  
  
“We’ll be fine. US hates print and you know it.”  
  
You nodded again, somewhat hesitantly. “You’re right. And social’s numbers were great after the teaser, and that had almost no information. Have we got the ads secured for streaming?”  
  
Richard canted his head and did not respond, instead studying you for a moment. After a beat, you stiffened, but before you could say anything he simply shook his head. “Just wondering if that’s what I really sound like. Yeah, streaming’s locked down for after alpha. Speaking of which, hope your bags are packed.”  
  
A jolt coursed through your spine, and your fingers suddenly became very cold. “Already?” you blurted. Clearing your throat, you continued, somewhat more level, “I mean. Yeah, we knew it was coming up – who all…?”  
  
“Just you and me.” He looked conflicted, simultaneously amused and disgusted. “By name.”  
  
“By name?”  
  
“Apparently. No telling why.”  
  
From the look on his face, you were certain he knew exactly why, but before you had a chance to press him he stood and exited your office with a sharp tap of his knuckle against your door jamb.

* * *

The trip back out was similarly met with less fanfare: the same charter airline carried you to Domino, and if there was any turbulence you hadn’t felt it through the medically-induced sleep Dr. Tucker had insisted on. Chiba met you at the airport sans Matsubara, who was entertaining another business partner. The suites were less lavish, but still far more than you had expected, and Chiba left with a bow after confirming that Richard still had the passes to the private car on the KaibaCorp bullet train.  
  
“Please enjoy some rest this morning,” she said, bowing. “Date-_san_ and Kaiba-_sama_ are not expecting you until this afternoon at one o’ clock.”  
  
Though you had fully intended on taking her advice, you had not expected for Kaiba to be one of the first people you saw – you had assumed it would simply be Date and Kitagawa, as it had been for the majority of the project – and you popped another diazepam immediately, lest your brain could get a foothold on the information.  
  
Before you closed your door, Richard cast a long glance at you. “Going to be all right?”  
  
Sighing, you pressed your forehead against the door for a second, appreciated how cool it felt. Then, nodding tiredly at him, you closed the door and napped.  
  
Significantly more leery of your triggers this go-round, you had arranged with him beforehand to text you if he needed you, rather than knocking, and though you were prepared to explain yourself he simply nodded once. You were glad for this, as any chance to avoid reliving the previous trip was a huge weight from your shoulders. He texted you at the time promised, and you blearily slapped the phone, rising from the bed to sluggishly make your way out of the room.  
  
Richard cocked a brow at the sight of you, but otherwise did not move from where he leaned against the wall just outside of your room. “Grab yourself some a water bottle from the minibar,” he said instead, and you complied. He kept a cautious eye on you when you returned, tugging the door shut. “Might be a long day, we don’t know the environment they’ll ask us to be testing in.”  
  
Draining half of the water in one gulp, relishing in how cool it felt, you made a _so-so_ motion with your head. “It’s entirely possible we’ll be in that same room where they tested the Duel Disk.”  
  
He pressed the button to call the elevator, continuing to watch you from his periphery. “Wouldn’t be ideal,” he said pointedly.  
  
You bit your cheek – Dr. Lucas had been a huge help in controlling your reactions to the situation, but it still made you tense, and every time it was acknowledged you felt a rush of heat to your cheeks. It was only one of a dozen habits you needed to break, but not getting frustrated was one of the more active changes you had to make. “No,” you agreed finally, forcing yourself to keep your tone mild. “But it’s also possible it won’t be in that room. Could be in a virtual environment – KaibaCorp’s known for it.”  
  
Richard snorted softly. “Pretending to walk around on a mobile phone while sitting in the basement of a host club?”  
  
It was as close to a joke as you thought he was likely to make, and you smiled.  
  
The train ride went smoothly, and you noticed for the first time that there was gentle muzak playing in the cabin – you weren’t certain if it was there during the previous trip, but it made for a calming ambiance, and it almost worked. But once that towering structure appeared within view you felt your breath quicken slightly, the barest tremor in your hands.  
  
Noticing you shake your hand in agitation, Richard stopped just short of the glass double doors and turned on you. “Are you going to be good?” At your nod, he continued, “Do you think you’ll be able to feel it coming on, should another attack start to happen?”  
  
You opened your mouth to argue, your brow furrowing, but he cut you short with your name, the look on his face stern. Exhaling shortly, you considered: generally they started out innocuously enough, like was happening now, but often it became too late to stop it in such a rush. Still, with the work you had been doing with Dr. Lucas, you were aware of your triggers, and you were aware of what the onset generally looked like.  
  
“I can try,” you said slowly.  
  
Richard scowled dubiously, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Hastily, you said, “I think I’ll be able to, yes.”  
  
He paused a moment longer before, satisfied, he nodded and entered. The receptionist at the front desk seemed delighted to see the two of you back, checking you in and providing visitor badges. She informed you that you were to take a specific elevator down a separate hallway – here she leaned over the counter to gesture – and the badges had been coded temporarily to visit only the specific floor.  
  
“Kaiba-_sama_ and Date-_san_ are awaiting you in Kaiba-_sama_’s office,” she informed you pleasantly with a bow.  
  
You returned it, and gestured absently for Richard to do the same, before making your way down the unfamiliar corridor to a sleek white elevator. You swiped your badge against the sensor briefly, and it _bing_ed a green dot at you briefly before opening its doors in a rush of cool air.  
  
As the doors slid shut you took a breath to calm yourself, to brace against any impending sense of claustrophobia. Despite all of the rest you had gotten, all of the hard work you had done in the last couple of months, it was the anticipation of seeing whether the hard work had been for naught that drove your heart to beating frantically in your throat. You took another breath, exhaling slowly; you caught Richard watching from the corner of his eye, and you flashed him a thumbs up, despite the heat of tension coloring your face.  
  
The elevator slid to a stop at the top floor, and your knees weakened, threatening to buckle beneath you. You grit your teeth, but kept yourself standing. “Let’s go,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, but Richard swept his arm in an _after you_ motion.  
  
Although it was probably a short hall, the walk to the office felt long, stretched surreally as though in a house of mirrors at a summer carnival, made all the longer when you noticed that the door was open and bright sunlight spilled onto the tiled floor. You allowed yourself to flank Richard, keeping pace with him from the safety of his shadow. The distance stretched farther, farther, and then suddenly you found yourself blinking in the morning light, faced with the great wall of windows.  
  
You hadn’t expected it to be so…comfortable. The boxy couch looked well-lived in, lush greenery bloomed in each corner, and the dense green carpeting threatened to lower your guard with each step. You determinedly kept your gaze down, unfocused, and breathed.  
  
“Welcome!” Date chirped, leaping from her perch on the corner of the desk. She bowed first in greeting, then hugged you and Richard lightly, clapping her hands as she released you and stepped back. “We are so pleased you were able to make the trip back out – our team of programmers has been working hard, but we are pleased with the results so far.”  
  
“So you’ve played what’s available?” Richard glanced back to the desk, nodding briefly to Kaiba, who had not risen.  
  
Kaiba shrugged a shoulder, scarcely moving from his usual position, fingers threaded before him. “Some. The AI has been programmed as intelligent as we can make it, but even so its most difficult setting doesn’t provide me with much to work with.”  
  
Richard turned to face him fully, interested now, crossing his arms over his chest and canting his head. “So you did program in the difficulty settings? What, like beginner, intermediate, expert?”  
  
A small smirk curved Kaiba’s lip. “Something along those lines.” He leaned forward, opening a drawer and extracted two cell phones. He placed these on the desk in front of him and resumed his previous posture. “We’ve loaded the game onto these KaibaCorporation phones – since you have the range in experience, the two of you are ideal for this series of tests.”  
  
You stayed rooted where you were, your eyes affixed to the cell phone. “Has anything come up in previous testing that we should know about?”  
  
Kaiba’s eyes flickered over to you. “The results of each series of tests is going to stay with myself and the developers.”  
  
“Don’t want us looking for something when another issue could be staring us in the face.” Richard nodded, picking up one of the phones and fiddling with it a bit. “Preloaded?”  
  
“In English. We’ve ensured that all of the settings are unlocked, and both accounts have the entire card library available. Build your decks as you see fit.”  
  
You ignored the barb about the language, and stepped forward primly to take the other cell phone, taking a brief moment to take stock of the new operating system. “And where will we be testing? A room in the facility?”  
  
Kaiba scoffed. “You’ll be testing in Domino. Wander the city, play the game as it’s meant to be played. You’re here for three days – return with your findings when you’ve finished.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit slow, not really filler but kind of an expository chapter. It picks up quite a bit next chapter, though, and it'll be kinda nonstop action until about chapter 20 or 21 ish.
> 
> Just a brief heads up, I'm gonna take a teensy hiatus during the week as a mental health break, so it's possible the next chapter might be a little later than usual. I'm gonna try to avoid that, though.
> 
> Thank you so so much as always to everyone who left a kudos: Cocomender, spangled, and guests; and everyone who chatted with me in the comments: 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, haise_leonheart, sakuchwan, and Scarletbelle87! And of course my Tumblr lovelies, dabi-haze and anons! You guys are my lifeblood, and your support means the world to me.
> 
> If you're interested in the behind-the-scenes for this fic and anything else I have planned, check out my writing Tumblr [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com)! I'm always happy to answer asks, and sometimes I give status updates or drop hints to future projects - and occasionally, I write fun blurbs in between memes.


	13. Daniel in the Den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Well you thought the lions were bad, well they tried to kill my brother.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtJfFqZAD4A)

At Date’s recommendation, you and Richard took the train to the KaibaCorp stadium – it was a significant landmark, she told you with some emphasis, and the train ride would allow you time to get a feel for the infrastructure of the game and its settings, and to sift through the card library to build your decks.  
  
Apparently, when Kaiba had said they had programmed “_something like_” difficulty levels, what he had meant was that the difficulty was dependent on the player’s official KaibaCorp ranking. As a brand new duelist, not even registered in the KaibaCorp mainframe, Richard had the option to choose his proposed level of play – and, since he still didn’t feel secure with his feet under him just yet, he happily selected the lowest level and promptly navigated to the tutorial levels with the default deck.  
  
You, on the other hand, found that your level had already been set at 7. As this was the second-highest difficulty, you felt a surge of unease, and debated sifting through the options in the settings to adjust it – if even such an option existed – before allowing yourself a steady breath. You weren’t so confident in your level as Richard was, but you were willing to work with it. Still, you breezed through the tutorial duels in search of errors, then spent the remainder of your time fiddling with the settings in the Card Library.  
  
Almost immediately, you found an odd glitch in the search function that autocorrected certain words to incorrect results – dutifully, you jotted this down in a small pad you carried with you, then spent the remainder of your time scrolling through the library manually, filling up your deck with the new cards that you had been wanting to experiment with.  
  
A pleasant voice announced your location, and you raised your head, casting a glance at Richard. He was still bent over the phone, his chin propped on his fist. You nudged him gently with an elbow. “Stadium’s coming up. Ready?”  
  
Not tearing his eyes from the screen, he shrugged a shoulder, on corner of his mouth turning down. “Fusion summons and ritual summons are different?”  
  
Laughing lightly, you stepped down onto the train platform. “Yeah. Fusions require specific ingredient monsters and a spell card usually, where rituals require the ritual monster and matching spell, plus the tributes’ levels have to add up. A lot of beginners don’t use ritual summons,” you added, weaving your way through the crowd. “They think they’re complicated.”  
  
Richard snorted and shook his head. “Arithmetic is complicated?”  
  
“Well, it’s less to do with that, I think, than it is having the right cards at the right time. A lot of it’s luck of the draw.” You raised a hand to shield your eyes, squinting into the sun; it had been a long time since you had been in this area of Domino, and during Battle City the stadium had still been under construction. Luckily, though, Kaiba’s predilection toward the less discrete made it easy to locate against the skyline.  
  
Content to follow you to your destination, Richard kept his eyes affixed to the phone’s screen while he spoke, swiping and tapping as he worked his way through the practice duels. “Not really,” he said firmly. “If there are a limited number of cards in the deck, and the ingredients you need make up a proportion of that, it’s not a stretch to know when it’s possible you might draw the right card.”  
  
Your laugh brightened, and the early spring air filled your lungs. “Are you talking about counting cards, Dick? We’re not at a table in Vegas.”  
  
He waved a hand, unbothered. “They’re the same concepts. You can apply the same math to anything with limited variables – it isn’t luck to use basic mental math, it’s strategy. There, see.” He tilted the phone to show you. “It’s my second turn, so I’ll have drawn seven cards out of the forty, and since these are already in my hand – “  
  
“No, no, that’s really all right,” you demurred. “Look, we’re here.”  
  
By all accounts, the stadium was tame – there were, of course, the standard advertisements for KaibaCorp products (and others, though there were much fewer of those), and the frame arced gracefully into the sky, but if anything it looked…shabby? Your eyes roved over a few of the rusted, dirty grates, and you couldn’t imagine how it had been allowed to get into such disrepair. You supposed, though, that with the KaibaDomes in KaibaLand, that this stadium would be getting significantly less use. Still, you wondered vaguely why Date would have suggested you start here.  
  
Richard gave the façade a critical once over, and you were certain he was thinking the same things you were. He nodded briefly at a sign over the ticket booths. “Repairs?”  
  
The corner up your lip curved up softly at the cartoon Blue Eyes in construction accoutrement – you wondered which person within the company had the balls to recommend that to Kaiba, given his very vocal disdain of the Toon series of monsters. Although you supposed it was another thing entirely when you weren’t facing on in a duel.  
  
“Reconstruction,” you corrected, glancing over the text on the sign to translate. “It’s advertising the ‘historic site of Battle City’ and ‘coming this summer.’ I didn’t expect him to be so…nostalgic?” You canted your head. “It almost feels wrong.”  
  
“Maybe not nostalgic, but he knows how to make money. Kitagawa and Mokuba mentioned something about hosting launch here.” Richard turned that critical eye on you. “Doing all right?”  
  
Discretely pressing your fingertips to a pulsepoint, you nodded. Your heartrate was slightly elevated, but everything else seemed fine: your vision was clear, your hearing still sharp, and your hands shook only barely.  
  
As though prompted, the KaibaCorp phone buzzed against your palm. “Ah!” You raised it, and saw that there was a bouncing arrow on the screen. Tapping on it, an animation erupted, colorfully and dramatically announcing that it was time to duel. You turned the screen to Richard. “Showtime.”  
  
He tilted his head, glancing at the game screen. “Nothing on my end. Lag? Oh no, wait.” He held the phone closer to his face and squinted. “Mine has a banner yours doesn’t – looks like there aren’t any encounters enabled for my level, I’ll have to build level through casual or linked duels.”  
  
“Makes sense,” you said, surveying your starting hand briefly and setting two cards. “If he’s basing it off of Battle City, which – “ you cast a pointed look at the stadium. “You would have needed a five-star rank or higher to qualify – can you change it?”  
  
While Richard checked his settings, the opponent in the game played a weak effect monster which special summoned two more of the same, setting a card and ending its turn – it played a ninja deck, it looked like. They tended toward being very polarizing themes, in the dueling community – unless it was very well composed, they tended simply to be an overwhelming onslaught of small annoyances. Some duelists used this tactic to run their opponents decks out, but it was frowned upon.  
  
“I wonder if the AI works on a sliding scale,” you said aloud, setting another card and summoning. If that was the case, the opponent was likely to have a well-crafted thematic deck. You couldn’t really believe that Kaiba would put in deck-out opponents for higher levels…  
  
When Richard announced that he was able to adjust his play-level and received the notification, he said, “We’ll find out here in a minute.”  
  
“Mm. And that’s game for me. This one was a pushover – what’s this?” In the middle of the digitized firework display, you saw a small spiraling item making its way closer. A card? You tapped on it: Ninja Master Shogun. “Looks like there are card rewards, too.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s a version of the ante rule. Rebecca said it tested positively, so she talked to Kitagawa about putting it in. There should be puzzle cards, too – they were mentioned during that meeting, but I don’t remember where we landed on that.”  
  
You swiped Ninja Master Shogun from the screen and saw that he was correct. “Strange, wonder what the puzzle cards are going to be used for – certainly not another map, that wouldn’t work on a worldwide basis."  
  
“Game currency, I think. This guy’s a little tougher for me than for you, but I don’t think the AI adjusted the difficulty for my level.”  
  
You craned your head to see. So Kaiba was willing to have an opponent use a deck-out strategy. “Oh, I see what it’s doing. Play that one next turn.”  
  
Shrugging a shoulder, Richard complied, and within a couple turns of following your advice he found victory, stashing his winnings. You waited a few minutes to see if there would be another encounter at the stadium site, letting your eyes wander over the building, before finally suggesting to Richard to begin exploring the city. Conveniently, the KaibaCorp programmers had developed an incredibly detailed map of Domino, and from what you remembered it was a very walkable city.  
  
You selected a route into the downtown area, noticing immediately some of the quirks and functions of the game: walking generated stamina, which you spent to initiate duels with friends or strangers, and winning those casual duels earned cards and puzzle cards, which could be exchanged for currency. You found the in-game shop, which you could barter currency for various customization items and stat boosts, as well as booster packs.  
  
You were surprised at how little could be purchased for actual currency, and when you brought this up to Richard, he waved it off. “We’re still working that out – it isn’t applicable right now for us, since everything’s already preloaded. My department and yours will meet up in the next month to hash out the details.”  
  
Your phones buzzed periodically during the walk – some well staggered, some quite close to one another, and you jotted this down as well – but their skill levels were negotiable. Even Richard defeated them with relative ease, only flashing his screen to you twice for assistance. He was getting the hang of the game quickly enough, you thought, but his initial estimation of his skill level was more or less correct.  
  
It was when you reached the park, taking a quick rest on a bench while Richard went to a nearby vendor to grab water and lunch for the two of you, that your phone buzzed again. This time you noticed something that hadn’t been on the screens for any other duels – except, you realized, the initial duel at the stadium. You accepted the challenge, yawning briefly as the cards shuffled and dealt themselves.  
  
This opponent lasted a trifle longer than the others, and dealt mostly with an insect based Forest deck. You supposed it made sense, being in the park. You took advantage of the themed deck and destroyed its field card, putting a stranglehold on its magic cards as well.  
  
Thanking Richard for the sandwich he handed you, you nodded at his phone. “Did you get this one?” You flashed the screen at him.  
  
“Yeah, I accepted. It’s waiting on me, I think, hang on.” He played a few moves, then after a few moments his brow furrowed. “Think we got another glitch – this card wasn’t in the default deck. Oh, and it’s just playing itself, okay, good, yeah.”  
  
You leaned over to see. “Yeah, write that down. That’s a weird coincidence, but that card’ll do that – Parasite Paracide’s effect is a forced one. It shuffles into your deck, then plays itself and knocks out your life points.”  
  
Richard made a face, playing another move with some restrained frustration. “I don’t know how you can keep all these cards in your head. Some of the effects don’t even really make sense – it’s not like you can make a mnemonic off of a lot of them.”  
  
“It’s just practice. I have played this game for a while,” you laughed. “Play that, that might help. And for god’s sake, customize your deck, you’ve really handcuffed yourself to the radiator with this.” Turning back to your own screen, you recoiled. “Ah, shit, is that what it’s doing?”  
  
You corrected yourself: this opponent was a good deal more difficult than the others. In the time that you had taken to help Richard, it had summoned its ace monster, Insect Queen, and you found yourself staring down a field of insect tokens. Checking your hand, you thankfully found an old friend: Hunter With 7 Weapons. You checked your hand, and smiled – the familiar combo was available, so you took it, clearing the field handily.  
  
Richard had not been so lucky, and had lost in the time it took for you to complete your turn. His eyebrows raised when the program selected a card from his deck for him to lose, and he nudged you with his elbow to show you. “That’s interesting. Wonder what happens if you have a losing streak.”  
  
You whistled. “Right. Write it down, we’ll ask Date later.”

* * *

You had both decided to call it a day shortly after that, taking a slightly circuitous route to the nearest train station and heading back to the hotel. Although by and large you were doing well, you had started to feel woozy and noticed that your heart rate had increased in a way that had little to do with the walking. The most difficult part had been saying so to Richard, but he had simply shrugged in response and admitted that he was done for the day as well.  
  
Later that evening, after you had holed yourself up in the bathroom for a long bath in the claw-footed tub, you spread out a few of the files Rebecca had provided you with, along with some of your notes from the day, continuing to tap idly through the settings on the KaibaCorp phone. They had done a good job, from what you could see – you had a few things to report, and another couple pages of questions that you wanted clarified, but nothing stood out as spectacularly wrong.  
  
You switched back to the screen with the card library, allowing yourself to make a few modifications now that you were able to practice some with the deck. You wondered if you should try to swap out a few cards for the ante winnings you had received, immediately noticing a glitch informing you that you didn’t have those cards and providing suggestions on how to get them.  
  
Scratching that note down with the rest, your fingertips hovered over the screen, your gaze freezing on the card you had received from the marked opponent in the park: Insect Queen. Your brow furrowed, and the seconds ticked by on the clock on the mantel before the penny dropped.  
  
You whipped your legs over the side of the bed and you stumbled, righting yourself before reaching the door. Pushing through, you lurched across the hall and hurriedly rapped against Richard’s door. From inside you heard a soft murmur, then the gentle _snap_ of his laptop closing followed by the shuffling of feet to the door.  
  
He looked freshly showered, the white t-shirt sticking to patches of lingering moisture on his torso, his hair spiking in slick angles in a far more casual manner than you were used to seeing him. Peeking in the door, you could see that his laptop rested closed on the couch beside a crumpled towel.  
  
Awkwardness bubbled up from a geyser in your chest, the distinct impression that you had interrupted something weighing down on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were in the middle of something.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. Did you need something?”  
  
You hesitated, then shook your head lightly; you wouldn’t let the awkwardness knock you down. “Yeah, I had a couple of theories that I wanted to test tomorrow, if it was all right.”  
  
He nodded shortly, turning his back on you to pad back into the living area of the suite, not looking back to see if you followed.  
  
You shut the door, striding forward to sit in one of the armchairs. “So it occurred to me that there might be specialist duels, like boss battles, and I just wanted to check out a few areas specifically.” He took the phone you held out to him, eyes flicking over the screen where you pointed. “I noticed two of the duels we played today had a little mark during the challenge screen, and based on a couple of other things, I think these might be deliberate – but I wanted to check first.”  
  
Handing the phone back, he propped his ankle on the opposite knee, shrugging. “Yeah, we can do that. You know the city better than I do, so if you think we’ll get better results from different locations, I’m happy to follow you to where we need to go.”  
  
Breathing a small sigh of relief, you felt a knot loosen in your chest. “Great, sounds good. The locations I’ve marked have a pretty intuitive route, so if I’m right, we can just go in a big circle and end up back at the hotel around the same time as today.”  
  
Richard nodded his agreement, and you hesitated, eyes landing on the laptop. “How’s the team?” you chanced. “You were talking to Jen, right?”  
  
There was a moment of intense silence, Richard not breaking eye contact as he deliberated his response. Eventually, he simply said, “They’re fine. This is a good idea, tomorrow, we’ll go along your proposed route, and then we can report our findings to Date the next morning.”  
  
Although he said it with a perfectly level tone of voice, it felt sharp, pointed. You forced yourself not to draw back, but couldn’t control the soft, “Ah,” that came from your mouth.  
  
Instead of acknowledging the sound, Richard rose from his seat, running a hand through his damp hair to slick it back – and just like that, despite the pajamas and bare feet, he was the same stony-faced Richard he always was. “Let’s get some rest, then. We moved a lot today, and tomorrow will be the same.”  
  
“Yeah,” you agreed meekly; rising with a quiet good night, you let yourself out.

* * *

“Aha!” you exclaimed triumphantly as the prize ante card flashed on the screen. Clenching a fist in your righteousness, you flashed the phone at Richard, who glanced up from his own screen in consternation, apparently having difficulty with his opponent’s Umi field. “I was right! I knew it!”  
  
“Clue me in while you’re helping me win this one.”  
  
“Hm?” You checked his field absently. “What have you got set? And do you not have any stronger monsters than that?”  
  
“Hang on lemme… Eatgaboon and Disturbance Strategy. And no. Wait. No.”  
  
Grunting in consternation, you scowled. “Then play Disturbance Strategy and pray to god. Anyway, I was right – look.” You gestured again to the ante card that you received from the victory. “Fortress Whale was the registered ante card for Ryota Kajiki – and he was a big name duelist that played here.”  
  
Instead of getting a restful evening of sleep, you had spent the evening mapping out a careful route through the city, watching several of Battle City’s recap videos – if the marked opponent at the park gave out Insect Queen, you reasoned, it was likely that the AI for that opponent was based on Insector Haga. Following that logic, you had marked other spots within the city where famous duelists had battled, and after receiving cards like Psycho Shocker Jinzo, Red Eyes Black Dragon, and finally Fortress Whale, you knew your assumption had to be correct.  
  
Kaiba had programmed in actual duelists using their actual decks from BattleCity.  
  
You weren’t surprised, but the realization brought a strange sensation, a tingling in your fingers that you weren’t certain was anxiety or fear or excitement.  
  
“Hey, what now?” The exasperation was clear on Richard’s face as he held his phone aloft for you to see his predicament: the Kajiki-based opponent had him up against a wall. Though he had managed to get rid of the Umi field card, the game had brought out Legendary Ocean and Tornado Wall to counter.  
  
You laughed. “I think you’re dead, sir. Let the water take you,” you joked.  
  
With a grunt, Richard tapped the surrender button, scoffing as the computer selected another card from his deck as an ante-prize. With the rate of his losses to wins, you supposed it was a good thing he had elected to keep the default deck, and told him as much. He scoffed again; “And lose all the good cards that I don’t know how to use?”  
  
Deciding it was a good time for a break, you offered to buy tickets to the next sea creature show, grabbing the corporate card from him to purchase lunch from the vendor while he secured seats. The show and junk food was a decent distraction, but by the time the audience rose to exit the stadium, you tapped Richard on the elbow, not meeting his eyes.  
  
“Hey, there’s one more place I want to check before we check out for the day, if that’s okay? It’s a little out of the way, but…”  
  
Shrugging his acquiescence as he had done the entire rest of the trip, you took the train to the center of the city, following the familiar path to a square off the main streets. The café had become a boutique-style homegoods store, but the cobblestones remained the same as you had remembered them.  
  
For the shaking in your hands, you almost didn’t register the buzz against your palm. When Richard called your attention to it, his voice sounded faraway, a tinny echo against a great cavernous tunnel that seemed to open up in your frame of vision.  
  
Taking a shaky breath, you stuffed your hands into your pockets and flashed him your most convincing smile. “Why don’t you take this one,” you said, shifting your weight to turn just slightly away from him. “I’ve been winning all day, I wanna see how you do on your own.”  
  
The look he shot you was blatantly skeptical, but he said nothing, instead taking a short moment to finally take your initial advice to adjust his deck. “Any tips for this opponent?” he asked mildly, respectfully keeping his eyes on the screen.  
  
“I…yeah. Negate monster effects or use the trap card Clone.”  
  
Glancing up at you through his brows, Richard frowned and sighed, averting his focus solely to the duel on the screen.  
  
You couldn’t watch, and excused yourself quietly to walk about the square, clenching your fists tightly in your pockets to abate the shaking. You did everything you could to control the speed of your breath, counting cobblestones, looking for any shapes within the clouds that were not grotesque grinning gods. Eventually, the shaking overtook you, and you scurried back to Richard to check the status of the duel, overcome with morbid curiosity.  
  
“Wrapping up,” he said shortly, the furrow in his brow deepening. He was silent for a few moments before a victory chime sounded from the game and you saw the fireworks erupt on the screen.  
  
You couldn’t restrain yourself. “What card did you get?” Despite all attempts to make the question sound casual, it came out tinged with desperation, your throat straining against itself.  
  
“The Wicked Eraser?” Richard read hesitantly, showing you. “Is this significant?”  
  
The breath caught in your throat, and you felt the blood drain from your cheeks as you blanched. “I…Probably not. Hey, let’s go back to the hotel, I’m suddenly real tired – I don’t think I ate enough at the aquarium.”  
  
The skeptical look returned to Richard’s face. “Right.”

* * *

The next morning’s train ride was quiet and calm, you and Richard tinkering with some last-minute mini duels and playing with the casual challenging system. The meeting with Date, Kitagawa and the Kaiba brothers went by equally smoothly, returning the phones and reporting your findings. Because it was a much smaller group of people, everyone had simply gathered in Kaiba’s office, settling cozily on the couch and sending Shigeru to fetch lunch for everyone.  
  
You did not mention your discovery regarding landmarks and associated duelists, keeping yourself focused entirely on presenting your findings from your notes and asking the pertinent questions you had rehearsed before the mirror the night before. Your face remained in its composed mask, and you make the briefest of eye contact when necessary, and otherwise kept yourself engaged and grounded by taking in the details of the room.  
  
Richard, having played at a different level than you, had a somewhat different experience than you had, reporting bugs that Kaiba’s team had not noticed – admittedly, they said, this was likely because none of them had played below a rank of six, and Kaiba himself said that ranks seven and eight were likely the most polished since that was where he had spent most of his time in the game.  
  
“Speaking of which, _nii-sama_,” Mokuba said pointedly.  
  
His brother nodded, and tossed the phone back to you – you fumbled with it in the air for a moment before cradling it securely against your chest. At your alarmed look, Kaiba explained, “You and I have the highest ranks in the building – I want to test the game under the stress of a real duel. The AI hasn’t been able to keep up.”  
  
Your face flooded with heat, and the familiar dull ringing returned. Rolling your lips, you coughed lightly. “I, um. I don’t think, ah – “ you stammered, finally settling for shoving the phone into Richard’s hands, startling him with a jolt. “Why don’t we have Richard try? I’m sure he’ll be sufficient, I’m not really what I used to be,” you ejaculated hurriedly with a laugh that was slightly too loud, tucking your shaking hands in your lap.  
  
Date and Kitagawa chuckled lightly amongst themselves, playing it off as feminine modesty, but Mokuba exchanged a look with his brother, who raised an eyebrow and sighed.  
  
“Grant.” He acknowledged the other man, turning to face him. “This won’t take long.”  
  
It didn’t.  
  
Still, the findings you had provided seemed sufficient for the KaibaCorp team, and Date excitedly thanked you for your help. “We will continue running tests with select others in the coming weeks, and then once we have worked through those results we will have another meeting to discuss trials.”  
  
“Beta,” Kitagawa corrected helpfully, nodding his agreement. “Everything is coming along very well – as long as there are no large errors that we have not accounted for, we should be able to release on time.”  
  
With that, you and Richard rose to take your leave, bowing your goodbye and assuring them that Chiba had reminded you about the reservation for dinner that night before you left Domino again.  
  
Swiping his badge to call the elevator, Richard crossed his arms over his chest. “Seems like that went well. You’re all right?” He did not look at you when he said it, but you could feel the scrutiny in the attention.  
  
You resisted the urge that rose in your chest, that simultaneous impulse to shrink back and lash out, instead nodding. “Fine. Tired. I’ll need a nap before we head to dinner – we’ve got a couple hours.”  
  
Richard nodded as well, ushering you into the elevator. “Didn’t bring up your theory about the Battle City duels. Any reason?”  
  
Screwing up your face in your uncertainty. “I don’t know. I’m sure he had his reasons to throw that in there. I’m sure the Japanese demo will lap it right up.”  
  
A snort. “Sure, they seem dead-set on keeping their niche, don’t they? They live for this kinda thing, is what it looks like. From what everyone’s told me, Kaiba’s such a nostalgia-phobe, and that’s what makes him such a good innovator, but I guess even he’s willing to pander if it works.”  
  
“He doesn’t seem like it, but he knows how to work a crowd, whether he’s in front of them or not,” you agreed. But it was a thought that you’d had as well, especially upon your arrival at the original KaibaCorp stadium. It had been in such a bad state as to need refurbishment, but based on the signage Kaiba was intending on using it as a stage for the game’s release. With his company’s expansion into so many other areas, it was truly strange that he would keep emphasizing memories of Battle City.  
  
The elevator swooped to a stop, and as your foot hit the linoleum in the lobby, you froze.  
  
It _was_ truly strange, wasn’t it, that he was agreeing to a project that was so heavily centered in the past. Kaiba was notorious for wanting to keep his gaze forward – but every article that you had read out of Domino that mentioned KaibaCorp had to do with Duel Monsters, the Duel Disc, tournaments that he had been in.  
  
Thoughts rushed to your head in a tangle, and you picked your way through a few loose ends, a comprehension settling in slowly with each thread you worked out.  
  
Halfway to the exit, Richard turned his head over his shoulder to find that you hadn’t followed. “All right there?”  
  
Your head whipped toward him, the expression on your face frozen in shocked understanding. “Yeah,” you said slowly; you turned sharply back to the elevator, calling back to him, “I’ll meet you at the hotel, go ahead without me, there’s just something I want to check.”  
  
The door to the elevator closed behind you with a soft _whoosh_, and you took the trip back up to work through everything that had flooded your mind until you weren’t simply suspicious anymore, you were certain. When it arrived back at the top floor, your legs ate the distance down the hall, and you swept past Shigeru’s empty desk back into the office.  
  
Kaiba remained the only person in the office, standing off center and slipping a file into a leather folio case, apparently in the middle of leaving. He raised an eyebrow, clearly miffed. “If you have something to add, you can email Date and she’ll relay it – unless you’re here to help me stress test the program with a duel.”  
  
“You’re partnering with us because you don’t think we’re going to succeed.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could formulate a tactful way to say it – it was only by the grace of god that your tone was astonished and not accusatory.  
  
He straightened here with a laugh. “It’s my programmers’ work – it will succeed,” he said, his tone dripping condescension.  
  
You took a step forward, ignoring the low-pitched hum that was building in your ears and squinting through the spots that hazed into and out of your field of vision. “Of course it will, but I mean _us_ – you don’t think Third Star is going to succeed, and that’s the _reason_ you chose to work with us on this.”  
  
“I’ve heard a lot of stupid things in this office, but that – “  
  
“Then why the focus on Battle City?” you snapped, feeling your heart against your ribcage, pushing through the light-headedness. “That wasn’t part of our proposal, that was something your team added in later. But why? You can’t stand looking back, you’re Mr Future.”  
  
“Okay, this should be good.” He scooted into a half seat on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest, peering down his nose at you. “Why would I deign to bother with a foreign company that’s only going to crash and burn? Could you imagine what that would do to my stock? Some marketing officer,” he scoffed.  
  
“It’s _because_ we’re foreign isn’t it? I’ve done some research on your company’s work, Kaiba – you’ve been trying to branch out for years, but Domino isn’t letting you, are they? They know what they want, and they want Duel Monsters – they want the Kaiba that used to be, their blue-eyed, white-dragoned prince. And you hate that, don’t you? I saw the old stadium, it’s a mess. You can’t stand that this is all they want from you – ”  
  
“Don’t think you can tell me how I feel about my city – “  
  
“_But you hate it, don’t you_?” you repeated. “You _want_ to advance things, you _want_ to move forward, but, dude, my department is how people feel, and your people want the old you. And that…that’s why you want us. You want a nobody company from America because it’s a big old frontier and your theme parks couldn’t compete with ours, and you can’t or won’t work with Industrial Illusions – you’re using us to come to the US because there’s nothing _but_ future for you there.”  
  
Your tone did slip into accusatory, but if he was bothered, Kaiba didn’t show it – instead, he let you speak, his face a mask of amusement. “No more than you’re using me,” he replied finally. “You think your team is going to get anywhere without me? You aren’t the only one who’s done their research.” He snorted here. “Farming simulators and social media games. You’ll be out of business in two years, being generous.”  
  
Your cheeks colored, and you ground out, “I don’t think that’s – “  
  
“Don’t. You know as well as I do. This partnership is mutually beneficial, just not for the ways you fantasized – that’s not my fault.” Kaiba slid from the desk, turning back to the files he was packing away into his folio. “We’ll get this project done, and we’ll all get something from it – who knows, maybe your nobody company will get actual proposals thanks to my name.  
  
“I will say this, though,” he continued coolly, making eye contact with you for the first time that day. “If you don’t think you’re fit to be on this project, that’s fine, you can recuse yourself, but don’t think that you have the right to come into my building and hold me responsible for whatever happened in your past.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say that “the KaibaDomes in KaibaLand” was so difficult for me to write with my own two hands because _god_.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the delay in this chapter – my minihiatus didn’t work out the way I wanted to, but I did manage to work on a few other writing things and played just an _obscene_ amount of Duel Links. But we finally got some long-awaited conflict in this one! Next chapter should be out on time-ish, and it’s gonna be a doozy.
> 
> Thanks as always to everyone who dropped me a kudos: Kooberoo, FriendlyNeighbourhoodStarNerd, steel_symphony, lesbianshinobu, dahliaqueen, and guests! And for the lovelies who chatted with me both here and on Tumblr: haise_leonhart, sakuchwan, 5_Stirling_Hearstrings, Scarletbelle87, HaephestusCrex, peaxhypit, and all my lovely anons. You guys are so lovely and supportive and I appreciate you.
> 
> Feel free to check out my writing Tumblr [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com)! I'm always happy to answer an ask, I spam writing memes and YuGiOh art, and I'll sometimes post about how lazy I'm being. It's great, you'll love it.


	14. Reckoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [You can't take it with you... You are not to blame for...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYHEpDnvVPk)
> 
> TW/CW – mild panic attack, description of a train accident, injury mention, blood mention.

“_Excuse me_.”  
  
In another stroke of luck, the astonishment at the comment overtook the snarl in your voice. Your heart had begun beating its way solidly from your chest, up the column of your throat and into your ears. Your vision shook gently in time with it, and the low-pitched hum had started to become shrill, a faint whistle in the distance.  
  
Kaiba granted you the courtesy of looking up, snapping his folio shut smartly; his expression fairly dripped incredulity. “I know you don’t believe you’re hiding some big secret. Don’t try that stupid laugh,” he added sharply when you opened your mouth; “Mokuba and the rest might be polite enough to let it slide to spare your feelings, but I don’t have time for that. If you’ve got a problem with me, it would be easier just to admit it and decide whether or not that means you can complete the project.”  
  
“I don’t – “ You stopped, clearing your throat, aghast at how weak your voice sounded coming from your throat. “I don’t have – “  
  
“Are you joking?” Kaiba scoffed again, reaching for the coat draped over the back of his chair. He swept it over his shoulders in a quick flurry. “Every time you see me, you look like you’re going into shock. I don’t care if you do have a vendetta against me, but I won’t stand for it affecting my company. If it’s a problem, my team can work with Hopkins – she doesn’t like me either, but at least she’s up front about it.”  
  
You grit your teeth, the distant whistle becoming a shriek – you had overextended yourself. You shouldn’t have come back, not after all of the stimuli of wandering the city, not after the meeting.  
  
Not after promising Richard that you knew when it was starting and you’d be able to stop it before it got too far.  
  
You clenched a fist against your thigh, quickly working to control your breathing, forcing yourself to remember all of the new techniques Dr. Lucas had suggested you try, but that you had never gotten around to. Letting out a breath, you forced yourself to look at him – not quite in the eye, but just off center. “I don’t have a problem with you, Kaiba-_san_. I just…”  
  
“Let me guess, my late adopted father’s company sold weapons that killed your uncle? Something like that?” He moved around to the front of the desk again, leaning back against it and crossing his arms over his chest. “I hear these kinds of things a lot, and I understand, to a point – but you’re here now, and despite your thoughts are about why this partnership is happening, I _want_ it to be successful.”  
  
The sky outside had been so bright the previous couple of days, and as the bright blue became streaked with dark you forced yourself to remember that: the sun was out, and the clouds were white. “No, Kaiba-_san_. I mean – “ You took a shaky breath, counting in for a beat, then letting it out slowly. “No, it wasn’t the work that the previous KaibaCorporation did, I just – “  
  
“But it was something.”  
  
“Kaiba-_san_, I – “  
  
“It’s happening right now, isn’t it?” His voice was low, and he watched you carefully, his eyes sharp and alight with consideration.  
  
Somehow it was this comment, barely bordering on curiosity and certainly not from any place of concern, but the sheer shock of being _seen_, that grounded you sufficiently so you were able to regain yourself. You allowed yourself for the briefest of moments to hold his gaze, the sensation coursing through you as a bolt of lightning bringing you back to life, and the tingle returned to your fingers. Your lips parted, ready to speak, when he cut you off with a sharp wave of his hand.  
  
“Your business is your own – I don’t want to hear about it, and I don’t want your issues to drag my company down. The way I see it, you have a choice to make: either you can contribute to make this work, or you can’t. Shigeru,” he called out to the man who had just returned to his desk; his eyes kept steady on yours while his secretary joined the two of you. “See her out of my office.”  
  
As he turned to leave, you found your voice again; raising yourself to your full height, you called after him, just softly, “I just don’t think you know the damage you did with Battle City, Kaiba-_san_.”  
  
He hesitated at the door only briefly, his head turning a fraction, not quite looking over his shoulder but enough that you know he heard, and with that he swept from the room, not for the first time taking the breath from your lungs in his wake.

* * *

As you had requested, Richard had gone ahead of you back to the hotel, and you were left to take the train alone. Your mind buzzed with the conversation you had just had, from start to finish: the implications behind the true nature of the partnership and whether or not the rest of the American team knew, the accusation that Kaiba had leveled on you that you were in turn using his name to bolster Third Star’s reputation (no matter how true…), and finally his abrupt and his shrewd assessment of your behaviors.  
  
More than anything, the sinking realization that _you had gone back_ sent you swimming. You had done that yourself, apropos of no appropriate impulse. When you had handed your badge back to the receptionist and left the KaibaCorp building, your body had been flush and numb, but as the seconds ticked by during the train ride every nerve came alive, tingling with some unknown electricity, energy pricking against your skin. You vomited in the private car’s private toilet shortly before the train arrived at the station nearest the hotel.  
  
You know you had told Richard that you had needed a nap before the dinner reservations, but there was no part of you at rest, the lights in the lobby too bright, the sound of your footsteps too sharp against your heightened senses. The jolt as the elevator deposited you on your floor sent your stomach reeling, a flip-flop in your abdomen.  
  
You made your way to the door to your room, but when your hand hit the door knob you felt a surge of heat against your palm, the buzzing still trilling in your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the world to ease off to little effect.  
  
Spinning on your heel, you took the short steps across the hall and knocked on Richard’s door. As before, you heard gentle murmurs, then a raised voice muffled by the door, before Richard’s distinct scoff and the soft _snap_ of a laptop being shut. You heard his heels against the floor before he opened the door – his tie had been loosened, and he looked frustrated, his hair sticking up in spots as though he had recently ran a hand through it.  
  
Nevertheless, you raised your chin. “I’m not going to get any sleep before we have to head out, can I just hang out with you? I – “ you faltered over the words, the openness unfamiliar on your tongue, “ – I had a conversation. With Kaiba. I just – can I hang out in here for a little?”  
  
Despite the weak ending, Richard nodded his understanding, stepping back to allow you entry. Discretely, perhaps hoping you wouldn’t notice, he slicked his hair back neatly once more before seating himself in the armchair, draping an arm over the back in a display of casualness.  
  
You perched on the couch, drawing your knees up immediately out of habit. You noticed that his laptop was in the same place it was the last time you were in his room, and you peered over at him hesitantly. “Sorry, did I interrupt again?”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. Are you feeling all right?”  
  
His tone was brusque, and normally you would have found it sharp, intimidating, you might even have drawn back – but right now, at this moment, you found his steady presence calming. You nodded briefly, disinterested in talking about what you had experienced in Kaiba’s office – at least until you had sorted through it, made sense of the plethora of information that had been unearthed. “Yeah, fine. You sure? That sounded like Jen. I’m sure being separated like this is hard for you guys – “  
  
“It’s fine,” he insisted in a tone that suggested he didn’t want to talk about it, either. Never one for awkward silences, he gestured to the laptop beside you. “Hand me that, will you? There are a couple of reports I wanted to finish before we left.”  
  
“Ah, yeah,” you leaned to give him the computer, glad for the implicit understanding that had passed between you the moment you crossed the threshold of his suite. Instead of prying, which you weren’t interested in doing anyway, you idly turned the television on, promptly muting it. It wasn’t necessarily that you needed to talk, and Richard wasn’t necessarily the best person for that anyway – it was simply that he was a comfort, a solid, known quantity while you wrestled with your thoughts.  
  
You coexisted in peace for the couple of hours until it was time to leave for dinner; you knew it was time to leave when Richard simply looked at his watch and sighed. Without asking, you turned his television off, darting into his bathroom to splash some water on your face and make sure your hair was presentable. When you emerged, you flashed him a thumbs up, which he returned grimly, and you set out on your way.  
  
It had been a good reprieve, the simple mindlessness of sitting on someone’s couch to watch television, and it allowed you to pick through some of what you had learned that day. You kept your eyes on Richard’s back as he swiped the passes against the door to the train car, gesturing for you to enter first.  
  
You swept in, seating yourself on one of the cushioned benches, drawing a knee up to your chest to rest your chin against it. Richard made a beeline for the refreshment cart, gesturing an inquisitive water bottle at you; you shook your head, keeping your eyes on him.  
  
Finally, he sighed. “What is it?”  
  
“Why did Justin choose KaibaCorp?”  
  
His face screwed up at the question. “What?”  
  
You paused, searching for the proper way to rephrase. “Of all companies to partner with, why KaibaCorp?”  
  
Although he shrugged indifferently, the look on his face told you that he had wondered the same question. “Because KaibaCorp works with Duel Monsters, is the most obvious answer.”  
  
“Works with, but not owns,” you pointed out. “We had to go through Industrial Illusions to get the rights, and they’re domestic. Why come all the way to KaibaCorp for something when we could just as easily have gone to San Francisco for? And for that matter, why Duel Monsters at all?”  
  
Richard’s expression suddenly became very tired. “Are you asking questions because you want to know, or because you already know and you want me to guess?”  
  
With a scoff, you lowered your knee, leaning forward against the back of the bench. “You work with Justin, too, Dick. And for longer than I have.”  
  
Looking as though he had swallowed something sour, Richard nodded once in agreement. “So why are you curious now that we’re almost finished? They’re almost finished with alpha trials – we’re only a couple steps away from a successful launch.” He pinned you with a glance. “Did you learn something in Kaiba’s office that I should know?”  
  
You hesitated – his tone had shifted, and held a slight edge to it, and you thought you knew why. “I think the finances are secure,” you reassured him. “And, frankly, I think we get to look forward to a great launch. Kaiba seems…he seems to be invested in the project.”  
  
“Then what’s the issue?”  
  
You heard the shudder more than you felt it the first time, the tinkling of faraway glass that travelled along the panels into the floor and up your leg. You froze, your entire body coming to attention.  
  
“What was that?”  
  
Richard must have felt it too, because he tensed, his eyes narrowing. He made to move closer to the bench where you sat when the train car lurched suddenly; you barely registered him tumbling to the floor from the corner of your eye as you shot a hand out the steady yourself against the bolstered bench in the cabin.  
  
You heard him groan, and called, “You all right?” beginning to rise yourself. “What on – “  
  
You got as far as having one foot planted solidly on the floor before your senses were filled with the horrible shrieking sound of metal shearing and grinding and crumpling against itself. Your entire world listed to one side when you fell in slow motion, catching faint glimpses of glass in the air like raindrops, splattering against your face and palms.  
  
Bracing yourself against one fist to rise again, to steady yourself as much as you can, you saw Richard splayed across the floor. One of his legs jerked somewhat, and you couldn’t tell if the groan you heard was coming from him or from the panels of the cabin as they stretched and burst.  
  
The last thing you saw before you lost consciousness was your hand reaching desperately for your friend.  
  
“_RICHARD!!!_”

* * *

You awoke to the familiar sound of a heart monitor – it was an unfortunate reality of your condition, but you had become accustomed to regaining consciousness and immediately identifying the unmistakable sounds that made up a hospital. Normally, though, the surroundings were calm, and you were able to come back to consciousness through a muggy haze to find yourself amongst the orderly sterility of the ICU – this time, however, you felt the frenetic charge of energy all around you, and you oriented yourself amongst urgent calls and pages over the PA system, the sounds of moans and weeping hovering over the scent of blood and iodine.  
  
An emergency room, then.  
  
Every part of you ached. With a hiss, you dragged yourself upright in the bed, attuned to the sharp _beep_s in time with your heart. Glancing about, you searched for anyone who would be able to tell you what had happened, where you were.  
  
_Richard_.  
  
The heart monitor _beepbeepbeep_ed as you whipped your head around, calling out for the attention of someone, _anyone_. A passing nurse bustled by, murmuring peaceful nothings in Japanese, attempting to get you to settle back into the bed. You struggled to control yourself, eventually blurting out that there was a friend with you, that you needed to know if he was okay.  
  
When the nurse nodded and gestured to the bed next to you, saying in heavily accented Japanese, “Another American,” an enormous weight lifted from your chest, your breathing shifting from ragged and panicked to merely elevated. To further alleviate the stress, the nurse gently tugged the curtain separating the beds, and your throat clogged with tears at seeing your friend lying there, prostrate but alive.  
  
He looked horrible, a wild violet bruise blossoming underneath the hospital gown over the entirety of one shoulder, which was heavily padded, the arm braced firmly against his side; elevated by a bolster was one leg, a fresh cast drying over the majority. His eyes were closed, but from a close look at his own heart monitor you determined that he was simply sleeping.  
  
The nurse gestured for you to lie back, pushing gently against the shoulder on the opposite side to her; you discovered the reason for this as you felt your skin tug painfully in the crook of your neck and shoulder and the nurse explained you had gotten stitches along the length of one clavicle, in addition to several cracked ribs and minor superficial cuts on your face and neck.  
  
You were sedated, she explained, and very lucky.  
  
In an attempt to calm yourself down, you allowed yourself to be pushed back into the pillows, sinking into them deeply, keeping your head turned to one side so that Richard did not leave your sight. You forced your breathing to slow, keeping time with the _beepbeep_ of your heart monitor.  
  
Finally, Richard snuffled a soft sigh through his nose, and he cracked one eye open. He licked his lips, blinked slowly, and croaked, “Hey.”  
  
Your only response was a nod, your throat becoming very thick at the sound of his voice.  
  
Distantly, underneath the clamor you heard a familiar voice saying, “I am looking for some Americans. A Grant-_san_ and a – Ah!” Having spotted you from his periphery, Shigeru turned from the nurse he was speaking with, and offered you a deep bow. “I am so happy to see that you are all right – and Grant-_san_ as well! Worse for the wear, but – “  
  
“’M all right,” Richard said; everyone tactfully ignored the slur in his voice from the painkiller. “Wh’you doing here?”  
  
“Kaiba-_sama_ has asked me here ahead of him – he was finishing up another business engagement at the time of the accident, but was on his way to hold the reservation. I believe he is attempting to get more information about the cause of the malfunction. He should be along shortly.”  
  
“S’nice of ‘im,” Richard said thickly.  
  
“Yeah, so nice. Which Kaiba-_sama_?”  
  
“Hm?” Shigeru turned to you, the expression that lit up his face appearing as though he were seeing you properly for the first time.  
  
“Which Kaiba sent you to check on us?” you demanded again. Whatever sedative you had been given must have worn off, as pain and emotion swept through you in a torrent. “We were supposed to be meeting everyone, right? So which Kaiba asked you to come see us?”  
  
Richard attempted to calm you with your name, but either from the painkiller coursing through his system or the adrenaline in yours, his tone lacked its usual authoritative bite. You turned to him, the ache beginning to radiate down from your shoulders into your bruised ribs – you let the pain rally you. “No, I want to know,” you dismissed him sharply, turning back to Shigeru and switching to Japanese. “Which Kaiba, Shigeru-_san_?”  
  
“Mokuba-_sama_,” he responded. “As I said, he was wrapping up another business engagement when he heard – “  
  
You cut him off with a cruel, barking laugh. “Oh, _of course_ it was Mokuba.”  
  
This ruffled Shigeru’s feathers a bit, and he drew back, the expression on his face mildly offended. “Yes, Seto-_sama_ is indisposed at the moment – “  
  
“Of course he is! Indisposed is a mighty fucking convenient thing for him to be – what, his appointment with us dropped through, so now he can go do things he’d _rather_ be doing?”  
  
Though he almost certainly could not understand anything you were saying, Richard again called your name, trying and failing to sound firm. Perhaps it was the wooziness of the medication, but he attempted to supplement by reaching for your hand.  
  
Where normally this would have brought the other party to their senses, cowed or chastened for whatever egregious behavior they were displaying, this only fueled your ire, and your eyes flashed at him, snatching your hand away as you rose, whirling on him. “Don’t you dare try to collar me, right now, Richard,” you snapped at him in English, “I’m so fucking done with this _bullshit_ – it isn’t enough that the last time I used KaibaCorporation technology _I fucking died_, but now I’m here again using his shit and _look what fucking happens_.”  
  
You rounded on Shigeru, who recoiled only slightly but did not step back, taking the brunt of your fury steadily. “And now,” you continued in Japanese, “that his _goddamn train crumples like a gum wrapper,_ he can’t even be bothered to be here to look me in the eye to _tell me why_?”  
  
Tears pricked your eyes as you spat your abuse into Shigeru’s face; instead of shrinking back or rising to his employer’s defense, he stood firm, his eyes growing soft behind his horn-rimmed glasses.  
  
You felt the red-hot rage spill from your chest like magma, your voice rising in spite of yourself as you laid it bare in a way that you had never done – not with your parents, or your friends, not even Dr. Lucas.  
  
“What an absolute _fucking tragedy_ that he should have to be faced with his mistakes – as if it isn’t _real people_ who have to reap the results of _his fuck-ups_.” You waved an arm viciously at the horde of casualties in the emergency room, absently feeling the stitches on your collar tear. “These people are going to have to deal with this for the rest of their lives – and that’s because they were unlucky enough to survive! And how many others? How many others have to carry the weight of KaibaCorporation’s hubris?”  
  
It was unclear whether it was due to your raised voice or the wash of blood dripping down your front, but one of the nurses rushed forward with an exclamation, her hands raised in what you assumed was meant to be a pacifying posture. Shigeru held up a hand before she could reach you, though, dismissing her with a soft word.  
  
Turning his focus back to you, he set his briefcase down gently on the bed you had occupied, deliberately peeling the suit coat from himself. Dimly you registered the weight of his jacket as he swept it over your shoulders, and before you could quite register what was happening you realized he had pulled you forward into his arms. Pressing your head into the crook of his shoulder, he gently rubbed your back. It was this, oddly, that removed the cap from the floodgates entirely, and though you continued to spill a flurry of hate, of sadness and rage, of all of the emotions you had pushed down into a deep cavern in the pit of your chest, you allowed yourself to cry.  
  
He took it gamely, interjecting with soft acknowledgements, letting you spill yourself over him. As you quieted, he revealed that he had been there the day that it happened, that he had demanded Kaiba call for the helivac, and that he understood.  
  
Details became a blur as he spoke to you, but eventually, numbly, you allowed him to separate and the nurse swooped in to restitch the tear in your collar. After that, you slept.

* * *

Shigeru had stayed behind for several hours, negotiating your release with the nurses. At some point while you and Richard slept, he told you after you had awoken, Mokuba had arrived to speak with a few of the survivors. Mokuba, apparently, had a hand in convincing the medical staff to release you and Richard on the stipulation that there was a KaibaCorp doctor who was willing to fly with you back to LA before returning to Domino.  
  
It was a squad of familiar faces that accompanied you home, the same crew from the charter airline and Takahashi-_sensei_, and though you slept heavily under the influence of painkillers, their faces paraded before you in your dreams, masks dancing before you in macabre kabuki.  
  
Upon landing in LA, the flight crew jumped to attention, eager to assist you and Richard in departing the aircraft, but you waved them off, biting down your irritation. Ever since your breakdown in the hospital, your anger bubbled just beneath the surface, and you found yourself apologizing often for snapping at a blandly smiling Takahashi_-sensei_. If this bothered him, he didn’t show it, instead bowing deeply to you and saying what a pleasure it was to see you so improved.  
  
Getting Richard down the flight stairs was a struggle, and you keenly felt the tug of your stitches against your skin – still, you managed, alternating the brunt of his weight between yourself and the crutch he was using with his good arm. He swayed briefly once, and out of habit moved the arm not holding the crutch to steady himself; although the medical staff in Domino General had managed to get his shoulder back into the socket with little fuss, he hissed at any movement.  
  
Finally, you managed to get into the hangar, where Justin and Jennifer awaited.  
  
For the first time since you had known her, Jennifer looked wretched, her eyes a patchwork of raw, puffy red and dark bags, her normally sleek, thick hair hanging limp about her shoulders. She caught sight of you from far off, and immediately began to bounce on the balls of her feet in anticipation, eventually breaking into a sprint and hurling herself at her fiancé. The crutch clattered to the pavement, Richard catching her with his good arm and crushing her against his chest with a deep _oof_.  
  
They began to murmur to each other softly, and you caught vague hints of “_I’m so sorry_” – out of respect for their privacy you continued moving forward, sweeping down to grab the crutch as you walked. Justin had remained rooted where he stood, watching Richard and Jennifer reunite, his gaze keen and sharp; as he turned to face you his expression melted, brow knit, concern etched into every line in his body. His lips parted to say something, and a hand raised slightly, beginning to reach for you.  
  
You cut him off sharply. “Just drive us home, Justin. Don’t talk. Don’t say anything. Just. Just take us home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got too excited and I didn't want to wait.
> 
> SOOOO this one was intense but it was probably the easiest chapter for me to write – I don’t know what that says about me, and I don’t want to. Lmao y’all I have actually been looking forward to the writing of this chapter for _months_ now, it just has all of the ingredients of Good Shit for me: we’ve got drama and passion and scares, but most importantly we got to see a woman go _absolutely feral_ and I’m so happy??? Get it babe.
> 
> I’m just as excited for another upcoming chapter, which is gonna be another duel – which I have _absolutely not remotely_ prepared for and I need to get on top of that like yesterday because god the last one was _such a lot of work._
> 
> Huge thank you as always to those who left kudos: Satre_Proxy, Fraeyla, and guests; and all of my love to those who chatted with me: haise_leonhart, sakuchwan, Scarletbelle87, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings on Ao3 and dabi-haze, harata-raven and all my anonymice on Tumblr. You guys don’t even know how much your support means to me.
> 
> Edited to add:  
Oh yeah! Feel free to drop by my writing Tumblr [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com) to see like plan-y things and meme-y things and honestly ask me things I love asks.


	15. Flux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ [If your right hand is causing you pain, cut it off, cut it off.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttcboE1GrNg) _
> 
> CW: Past injury mention, mild violence

If anything, the months following the accident were too easy. It was understandable that word had spread throughout the office, and that everyone would keep their noses to the grindstone in order to ensure that your and Richard’s lives did not get any more difficult, but it was more than that: it was as though each individual star had aligned in such a way as to make absolutely certain that everything went smoothly.  
  
Your sessions with both of your doctors increased for several weeks after you got home. Takahashi­-_sensei­_ had reached out via email on his return flight to Domino, and was now apparently in cahoots with both Drs Tucker and Lucas. Dr. Tucker wanted to check your physical injuries and your prescriptions, carefully checking in after each session to adjust your dosages as needed, and Dr. Lucas got to see an entirely new side to you. It seemed that after you let loose on Shigure, the tide could not be dammed again; you proactively filled her in on dreams you were having, whether or not they were recurring, and recounted for her, sometimes a trifle savagely, some of the interactions you had had with your teammates during the last several months. It took her only a couple of sessions to adjust to your newfound openness, but she did so proficiently, zeroing in on interactions and reactions that, with hindsight, proved to be problematic.  
  
Whether they credited your new willingness to talk to your recent sessions or not, they remarked on the change in behavior and moved on. However, they were not the only ones who felt the benefits: your team, Rebecca in particular, commented frequently upon the change in you.  
  
Abandoning your hesitance, it seemed, was driving results.  
  
Contact with KaibaCorp had been limited after your return – though obvious upon reflection, this is because it was being filtered through Jennifer, who was communicating with KaibaCorp’s head legal officer on the off chance that you and Richard wanted to press charges for the accident. She asked you and her fiancé every day, reminding you the option was still there, and every time you politely (if stiffly) declined, she fixed you with a sad look.  
  
In an odd twist, it took you marching into Jennifer’s office to get the communication flowing between the two companies easily again.  
  
Once the channels reopened, your department was off like a shot, posting print and video ads everywhere you could, continuing to drive design work between Industrial Illusions and the development crew, and generally building excitement. Bolstered by the momentum of throwing yourself into your work, you even managed to get in touch with an old contact in the dueling community to reach out for interviews and ad spots.  
  
Rebecca had declined an interview, herself, and had politely refused to get into contact with the bigger names, stating simply that she felt they had earned their rest. She had, however, suggested a rendered pin-up calendar, and you could not for the life of you decide if she was simply being tongue-in-cheek.  
  
Your injuries recovered nicely. Although breathing was difficult from the cracked ribs, you had some experience over the years due to your panic attacks, and you joked morbidly with Dr. Tucker about your breath control. The look he gave you over his glasses told you that he was not amused, and he dryly suggested yoga instead.  
  
The clavicle injury, though, was annoying, with a minor tear in your stitches occurring when you overestimated your abilities to carry your own groceries. Additionally, to ensure that it remained clean, you were instructed by both Dr. Tucker and Takahashi­-_sensei­_ to change your bandages every day. The bandage had been very easy to remove at the beginning, but until you had gotten used to it, it had been frustrating to replace.  
  
_And the itching_. You had thought that it would have dissipated after the stitches had been removed. You had been wrong.  
  
But even with these things in mind, you couldn’t imagine what Richard had to be going through. He suffered it stoically, allowing Jennifer to dote on him with increasingly fraying patience – more than before, he looked stressed and irritable, and there were scant moments that you saw him without his jaw clenched as Jennifer fretted over him.  
  
The accident was clearly taking its toll on the rest of the team as well, Jennifer most notably – or so it seemed. On top of her now consistent and somewhat out-of-character mothering, she looked tired, her normally dewy skin appearing at times sallow and lifeless. Whenever it occurred to you to ask after her, she was out of the office on an errand that Richard would refuse to clarify.  
  
One such occasion occurred the day before a scheduled Skype meeting. Yourself and the three other executives met in Justin’s office to discuss presenting your team’s progress to the KaibaCorp team, and when she reminded everyone of the time of the meeting she blanched, looking up from her phone in alarm.  
  
“Oh,” she said, her voice taking on a vacant, distressed tone that was entirely unlike her. Her eyes darted over to Richard before flickering between yourself and Justin uncertainly. “I actually can’t make it. I have… I mean, Dick – “  
  
“Jennifer.”  
  
She rolled a lip in between her teeth, gnawing it briefly. “No, yeah, right, no. Yeah, I have an appointment.”  
  
Justin held up his hands. “Dude, whatever you need to do. We can carry it – right, killer?”  
  
Though the grin he flashed you was meant to be endearing, you stiffened a bit at the familiarity. During your most recent sessions with Dr. Lucas, you had begun to unearth how truly angry you were at him, and though it was beginning to ebb, you still couldn’t look at him without indignant bile rising in your throat. Instead of affirming him, you shifted your attention wholly to Jennifer. “It’s all right, it’s my department’s meeting anyway. Rebecca and I can deal with it just fine.”  
  
For all that you had been rebuffing him over the last several months, Justin took it with good humor, his usual reaction being a soft crease in the corners of his eyes as he smiled. Ironically, this did not necessarily allow your ire to wane – you still felt fits of paranoia at the idea that he was whoring you out, and sometimes these fits overwhelmed the spite you felt, drowned out the voice in your head telling you that you were doing a good job.  
  
Dr. Lucas assured you that this would pass, and that you would come to trust him again; the last time you’d had the conversation, the spite took over, and you lifted your chin with a haughty, “_I hope not_.”  
  
Jen gave her fiancé a peck on the cheek as you and he boarded the elevator, scurrying off to her office, presumably to confirm whichever appointment she never wanted to talk about. As the doors closed and you pressed the button for your floor, you stole a glance over your shoulder at him. He had gotten the cast off recently, a quiet affair that he had taken a couple of days off for, and had swapped out the crutch for a cane. In an attempt to make light, Jennifer had convinced him to get a wolf’s head to ornament the handle.  
  
He hated it.  
  
“Not much longer for that, huh?” You made a show of flipping through your file, nodding discreetly at the cane.  
  
Richard sighed quietly, not breaking his gaze from the floor display. “Doctor insists that if I keep up on my physical therapy, that I’ll be back to normal by year’s end.”  
  
His tone dripped venom, and you pretended to read a copyright contract. “You don’t sound convinced.”  
  
“I’m too old for this shit.” The snarl in his voice was barely detectable, but it was there. As the words left his mouth, you allowed yourself to look at him fully, only then noticing how much older he looked than before this all started. “Speaking of which, Jen is going to be too busy tomorrow to take me to physical therapy – it’s right after the meeting.”  
  
“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, relieving him of the burden of having to admit that he needed help. “I’ll take you.”  
  
He nodded his thanks curtly, hauling himself forward when the elevator doors opened. You allowed him a fair headstart toward your office before you followed.

* * *

“So in short, we’ve successfully driven enough interest in the area ages 13-17 to form a beta group – which is huge, considering the dip in the American market only shortly after those kids were even born. Additionally,” you continued, taking a sheet of paper from Rebecca, “we’ve released a quiz – sort of a Buzzfeed-style – called ‘What Sort of Deck Type Are You?’, and it’s been insanely popular.”  
  
“An idea was floated that we should do a quiz about ranking,” Rebecca interjected, her tone prompting you to send her a brief warning glance, “but we deemed it, ah, _disingenuous_.”  
  
It had been her idea, and from the tick that developed in Kaiba’s jaw, you felt vindicated that shooting it down completely out of hand was the right decision.  
  
“Right,” you said pointedly, nudging her with your foot. “And once the popularity of the game goes up, then these kids can start earning their own unofficial in-game ranking, and eventually, the hope is, they’ll begin to participate in enough tournaments that they will earn their own official KaibaCorp rankings.”  
  
There was silence for a moment, as there usually was, and Kaiba was all stillness on the other end of the screen. It was always difficult to tell if this was simply a lag in the relay, or if he was digesting the information – you suspected the latter, and you didn’t think you imagined the smirk on his face the moment Justin began to shift in his seat.  
  
Although to his credit, Justin had gotten better about his displays of impatience, and ever since the trip had even begun to make it a point to dress nicer – significantly less cargo shorts and flip flops, more pressed slacks and button-down shirts. He ran a hand through his mess of curls, tapping the fingers of his other hand idly against the table. “So my man, our administrative department hasn’t gotten any information on when you’re gonna be coming out here.”  
  
“Because I have no intention of coming out.”  
  
Justin’s brow furrowed comically and he canted his head, doglike; you exchanged a tired look with Richard. “No? You gotta, we’re hyping up for beta, figured you’d want to be a part of it. I’ll have my secretary shoot yours some good hotels in the area, then we’ll narrow down some dates to run the beta.”  
  
Kaiba leaned back in his chair, regarding the webcam coolly. “No, we’ll have the beta here, as well as launch in the summer.”  
  
Justin rose to his feet chuckling, but before the rebuttal formed, you snapped your gaze to the camera. “After all the work we’ve put in to compile the beta participants here? We’ve got a good batch – we even found some who’ve played Duel Monsters before. I think it would behoove us to move forward with the beta as planned with the group we’ve selected.”  
  
“You can unselect them. I want – “  
  
“Excuse me, Kaiba-_san_, but it seems to me that it would be in the best interest to get the game as popular as possible with the American market – which we can’t do if we don’t bring them in at any point during the process.” Your tone bordered on icy, but you kept your expression mild as you locked eyes with him through the camera. “Unless you were simply planning to release the game only in Japan? In which case, you would hardly have needed our little troupe.” You let the statement hang in the air, taking a light sip from your glass of water, determinedly ignoring the tremor in your hand and the buzzing sound that was forming behind your sinuses.  
  
The energy in the room shifted noticeably, and all eyes on either side of the screen moved from you to Kaiba and back. You thought you heard a snicker from the speaker, and Rebecca looked absolutely enchanted.  
  
Then, suddenly, the air crackled somewhat as several people cleared their throats at once, but it was Justin who, after a shared look with Richard, managed to get the first word in. “I’m just sayin’, my dude, we’ve come out there and enjoyed your hospitality, maybe it’s time you come out here and enjoy ours. We’ll wine ya and dine ya and – “  
  
“Justin.”  
  
“Send ya home a happy man,” he finished, bearing a broad grin, winking at Richard, whose jaw flexed.  
  
The look on Kaiba’s face indicated that ‘happy’ is not a feeling he was currently experiencing; Date leaned over, her hand over her mouth, and whispered something to him that caused his eyes to narrow.  
  
Mokuba leaned back in his chair languorously, canting his head to add something under his breath. You found that both yourself and Rebecca had leaned forward slightly to catch what was being said, both of you deflating somewhat when you discovered the microphone hadn’t caught any of the conversation.  
  
The elder Kaiba shot a disdainful glance at his brother, who grinned and shrugged, before fixing his gaze back on the screen. As one final protest, he said, “I don’t have the time in my schedule to make an extended trip – “  
  
But Mokuba was hot on his heels. “_Nee_, _nii-sama_, even alpha wasn’t extended, was it? If you need to take a couple of days, you know I’d be happy to cover any meetings. I’ll check with Shigure to rearrange your calendar.”  
  
The look on Kaiba’s face shifted promptly from icy veneer to mutinous, betrayed.  
  
He scarcely had the chance to say anything when Justin spread his hands in a welcoming gesture. “Word! See, we’re all looking out for ya, big guy. Right on, so I’ll have my people contact your people – “ here he aimed a finger gun at Date, who giggled and mimicked the gesture, “ – and we’ll get you squared away for a couplea days, and then you can get back to the important stuff.”  
  
Looking as though he had swallowed something still living, Kaiba simply ground out, “Wonderful,” before ending the Skype call.  
  
“Man,” Justin said dryly to the black screen as everyone stood, collecting their things. “Ending was kinda abrupt. Maybe we should call back and double-check everything got covered.” He shot an expectant look about the room, his eyebrows raised.  
  
You exchanged a cocked eyebrow with Rebecca – normally she would have been privy to and enthusiastic for his antics, but she followed your lead and strode from the room with only the barest disdainful passing glance. As you crossed the threshold out, you vaguely heard someone mutter, “Give it a rest, dude.”  
  
You made your way back to your office, Rebecca walking along with you to share her notes from the meeting, and to share the results of ad placement: listicles, apparently, were the way to go, so you gave her the green light to contact a number of sites at her discretion. At your office door, she gave you a sharp salute and trotted off to her newly christened office.  
  
Straightening the files you had taken with you into their proper places in the organizer on your desk, you looked up briefly at the rapping on your door.  
  
“Ah!” You exclaimed as Richard leaned forward heavily on the cane, both hands covering the wolf’s head. “Sorry, I didn’t forget you, I just wanted to get organized since I don’t think I need to come back to the office once we leave. Just let me shoot this email off to the social media team and we can go.”  
  
Richard nodded his assent, and you rattled off a brief missive to your team advising them of the direction Rebecca would be taking placement. You pressed Send and restarted your desktop, making a show of wiping your hands together.  
  
“There we go, done. Ready when you are.”  
  
The look Richard gave you in response told you how much he appreciated the brevity, and he swiveled his weight on the cane to spin out of your office without a word, giving himself a silent headstart to the elevator. You allowed a sympathetic frown at his back before scurrying after him.  
  
Similarly, the car ride to his physical therapist’s office was silent, and you let the quiet settle over your shoulders – in part it was the guilt-tinged awkwardness of a shared traumatic experience that you had gotten the better end of, but more than that it was understanding. That same traumatic experience had bonded you in a way neither of you could explain, and although he wasn’t saying it, you knew he felt it too.  
  
There was a lot he wasn’t saying for which you felt the burden of understanding, the physical limitations only being the most visible, but there was more going on: you and he shared a silent trepidation in the project and the partnership, not just because of Justin’s general dunderheadedness, but a feeling you carried in your gut after the accident. And what was more, things were changing with him and Jennifer. Her mysterious appointments aside, there were afternoons when Richard took an uncharacteristically long, or even an extra, lunch and would return with his fuse significantly shorter and already lit. The physical limitations of his healing shoulder and leg were a blessing in disguise here: the administrative department had already had to replace his desk chair before he began to restrain himself.  
  
You itched to ask, but daren’t. Despite having seen the most raw and tragic portions of your life, there was something about including yourself in theirs that felt invasive, profane.  
  
He directed you to the physical therapist’s office with short, sharp directives, gesturing to park with only a simple, “There,” as warning. You allowed him out at the curb before pulling away to find parking. When you made your way back into the office, he had already changed from his business clothes to flexible activewear, and a gentle-faced, muscular young man was encouraging him offset from a pair of low parallel bars.  
  
“Ah,” you demurred, “I’ll just hang out in the lobby, you can grab me when you’re done.”  
  
Propping his weight on the balls of his palms, testing his leg gently, Richard didn’t look up before responding. “No,” he said shortly. His face was pale, but you were uncertain if it was from strain or pain. He grunted once, simply, flicking his eyes over briefly to his physical therapist, who gave you a once-over before shrugging.  
  
“If you need anything, my office is just down this hallway – it’s the second on the right, before the restrooms,” he said to you, before turning to Richard. “Remember what we talked about. It’s okay to be gentle for a little while.” He nodded to you before turning to leave the room.  
  
You hovered somewhat awkwardly near the door for a moment, taking a step forward. “Do you… do you need, um, help?” Your own physical therapy had been significantly less intense – waiting for the skin to knit itself back together, testing the limits of your shocked muscles, and rebuilding strength in that shoulder. Perhaps the worst it got was having to use a spirometer as your ribs and lungs healed, but even that only took the first couple of weeks.  
  
His eyes flicked over to you, his expression flat. “No,” he replied at length, taking a shaky step.  
  
“Okay.” You paused uncomfortably for another moment, then wandered slowly about the room: you fiddled with the therapeutic paraphernalia and read the posters and pamphlets amidst the soundtrack of Richard’s soft grunts as he pushed his way along the mat.  
  
Finally, when the grunts had become pants you understood that Richard had had his fill. “Help me sit,” he asked, reaching an arm out to you.  
  
You scurried to assist, taking his weight on your good side and guiding him to sit in the chairs along one wall, grabbing him a paper cone of water from the water cooler before seating yourself next to him.  
  
“You seem to be doing well,” you ventured.  
  
“Don’t do that.”  
  
Right. It was worth a shot. Perhaps about work, then.  
  
“What fucking right does Kaiba have to demand that we keep coming back to him?” It had taken you a little bit of time to filter your thoughts, but the more you dwelt on it, the more frustrated you were with the meeting.  
  
For the first time in what felt like months, Richard cracked a smile. He covered it with a sip of water, and snorted his amusement. “He wants to control the variables. I know what that feels like.”  
  
A niggling of curiosity wormed its way into you at the slight opening, but you pushed it down in favor of your irritation. “’_Control_’ is probably not the best way to describe what happened the last time we were in Domino,” you snarled, snatching your phone from your pocket to scroll through some emails to stem the anger that began to bubble in your throat. “At least Justin managed to handle that part, at least.” Although you were loath to admit it, Justin’s insistence had saved you a significant amount of stress.  
  
A low _hmm_ sound came from Richard’s throat as he finished the water. He stared at the paper cup thoughtfully before crushing it and tossing it into the wastebin. “He’s frustrated at being left out.”  
  
“Left out? He’s the one who started this whole fucking thing. Have you – “  
  
“He started it, but Kaiba’s edging him out.” Richard struggled his way out of the chair to standing, waving off your concern. “Have you not noticed? According to Date and Kitagawa, Justin isn’t allowed in the KaibaCorp tower anymore.”  
  
Though you could not see his face, you could hear the sparkle of amusement that lit his tone.  
  
“That…” you began slowly. “That is some balls. What the fuck, Richard. Why are we still playing along with this mess? Are we that deep in the hole that we can’t back out and tell KaibaCorp to fuck off?”  
  
He snorted, limping over to his cane and hefting his gym bag in one hand. “Can’t. Justin still has a _plan_.”  
  
This confused you – his disdain was still apparent as ever, but there wasn’t as much edge to the words as there had once been. It wasn’t a softness, but it might have bordered on acceptance.  
  
And the confusion rose, your temper flaring. “Oh, good, so you know what the plan is, too? I didn’t think you were going to be hiding things from me too – how low-cut should my tops be when Kaiba comes out here, I want to make sure I’m playing my part. Or do you think he’s an ass man?”  
  
A weary, dubious look. “Don’t be dramatic. I don’t know details, but I’ve known Justin a long time. I absolutely won’t trust him out of hand, but he’s apparently convinced the board that this is worth pursuing.”  
  
“Oh well, if the board is all right with this, I’ll make sure my legs are waxed.”

* * *

Despite your venom and backhanded protestations, the trip turned out uneventful. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, as Kaiba had made it perfectly clear that he did not want to come, and even though Justin tried his level best to make good on his promise to “_wine and dine_” your guests, Kaiba kept things rigidly professional and did not interact with your team any more than absolutely necessary.  
  
As it turned out, his chilliness turned out to be a blessing. By mirroring his disposition, you kept your participation during meetings clipped and to the point, allowing Rebecca to speak for you when the buzzing in your ears became too much. And even during times when you had to interact with the developers and Dale’s team, you made it through with minimal awkwardness through sheer stubbornness.  
  
That is, until the final day of beta.  
  
It was as any other day. You checked in with your team early in the morning as you arrived, and had them reach out to the group of children and teenagers who had been trusted to beta test the game over the last few days. They had returned the phones you had given them, and you sat with each of them to deliver a survey on their experiences in the game: in general, the gameplay provided a positive experience, even among the lower levels. However, a thread you noticed was that some of the battle animations experienced lag in a number of specific situations. You jotted this down to mention at the debrief, and went about your day.  
  
Kaiba and Shigeru toured the developer’s den that day, the artists eager to show off their work, and this was their final stop before the debrief. You met Shigeru in the hall, apparently having gone to the kitchenette to prepare tea for everyone, giving him a polite bow and a smile as he gestured for you to enter before him. Instead of seating yourself, you placed your files on the table before your seat and moved about the room, helping Shigure serve the tea.  
  
The meeting itself was good news – almost too much good news, if the looks on everyone’s faces were any indication. Richard announced that the projections were ahead of schedule due to the diligence of the KaibaCorp programmers, and that because of this that the project was likely to come in under budget – his expression as he spoke was the lightest it had been in months, and you caught Jennifer beaming up at him as he spoke.  
  
When it was Jennifer’s turn, she brought up her recent trip back to Industrial Illusions with the development team – apparently, she said, excitement for the game was so high that a new set of monsters and matching support cards had been designed for launch. Though this sounded good news to your team, Kaiba’s eyes narrowed a fraction, but said nothing.  
  
And when you spoke, you reiterated the increase in sentiment from a number of demographics, emphasizing that they key demos were teenagers. Somewhat surprisingly, you added after a prompt from Rebecca, it was single women in their late thirties that came in second, as far as engagement on social media was concerned. The listicles and quizzes were doing their part.  
  
“Is that everything?” Justin, for once all business, surveyed the room. You had thought at first that he was putting on a show for Kaiba, remembering what Richard had told you, but it was something different that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “What’s that, bud?”  
  
Dale, leaned back in his seat, adjusted his cap from where it had sat, low over his eyes, during the duration of the meeting. “Oh nothing, don’t mind me, boss.”  
  
The tone in his voice was blatantly sarcastic, and no amount of decorum could have hidden the look shared between Kaiba and Shigeru.  
  
Justin propped a hand on his hips. “Nah, if you got something to add, now’s the time, since we’re all here.”  
  
This was apparently amusing to Dale, and he snorted, leaning his weight forward onto his elbows. “Yeah, we all are here. Even this one, huh?” He nodded at Shigeru, who blinked at him in polite bemusement.  
  
The silence spread through the room like cold, settling heavily on everyone as the sense of something impending crackled in the air. Justin, to his credit, kept his airs light. “Well, yeah, Shigeru’s an important part of KaibaCorp – “  
  
“Fucking KaibaCorp,” Dale scoffed, shaking his head and laughing lightly. He held up a hand to Kaiba in deference. “No offense, dude, nothing against you or anything, I just don’t get it.”  
  
And here he turned to you, slinging one arm over the back of his seat. “Like, yeah, him I get,” he jerked a thumb in Kaiba’s direction, “but the secretary? Really? Seems like you’ll fucking stoop to anyone but me, huh?”  
  
Jen snapped her head in his direction. “That’s not an appropriate subject to bring up right now – if it’s something that needs to be addressed, we can bring in a mediator from HR – “  
  
“I was asked, Jen, and I’m fucking tired of dealing with goddamn mediators from HR. Like okay,” he turned back to Justin, whose face had become uncharacteristically stony. “For you, I dunno, maybe it’s like a bro code thing, I dunno, but it seems like she’s not terribly picky. And like, if you changed your mind or something, it woulda been good to know.”  
  
You paused, struggling to keep your expression flat as your throat worked over a response. Finally, you swallowed, cleared your throat. “Dale, I’m not entirely certain what it is you are referring to, but it is clear that you have gotten the wrong impression. I have worked with everyone at this table in equal measure for the success of the game – “  
  
He interrupted you with an unimpressed raspberry, waving his hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever bullshit women spout to pretend they haven’t done anything wrong. It’s no surprise you got promoted when you did – son wasn’t enough, you went for the father too?”  
  
The words had scarcely left his mouth before there was a flurry of motion you couldn’t quite follow, your distraction from the building rage drowning out everything in your surroundings. Distantly you heard the squeak of chairs being pushed back and footsteps rushing forward, a scuffle, and when you blinked you saw Justin standing calmly over Dale, who was scrambling back across the floor until his back hit a wall.  
  
“That’s enough,” Justin said, the calm in his voice a mirror to the ice on his face, distinctly in opposition to the split in his knuckles. He massaged his fist gently, glancing over his shoulder at you absently – you only then noticed that he had placed himself in between you and Dale, and a short _tap-tap_ later had Richard at his side. “I don’t think I’m outta line in saying that you’re outta line – gonna have to let you go, bud.”  
  
Rubbing his chin, Dale laughed, pushing himself up to his feet. “Oh, that’s fucking rich, dude. You of all people wanna give me shit for this, when you – “  
  
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Jen warned, not looking up something she was tapping into her phone. “But since we’re on the subject, I just wanna check – you’re still in the studio on Carpenter, right?” Here she lifted her gaze to his, smiling prettily. “I just want to make sure you’re easy to reach when my department needs to contact you in the coming months. You might do well to think over your next words real carefully,” she added, placing her phone faceup on the conference table. “Because this conversation is being recorded.”  
  
Dale clenched his jaw, his expression mutinous, and shifted his weight as though to take a step – Richard stopped him with a single shake of his head, the wolf’s head of his cane resting against Dale’s sternum, a silent warning.  
  
You gently pushed through the barricade Dick and Justin had formed, stopping just short of Dale. Lifting your chin, you met his eyes. “Go away. And never let me see you again.”  
  
“Well, you heard the lady, my dude,” Justin said, the corners of his eyes creasing as his lips raised in a gentle smile. “Get the fuck out of my building.”  
  
“Wait a second.”  
  
Everyone jumped slightly at the voice; you had all apparently forgotten Kaiba was there. Unlike Dick and Justin, Jen and even Shigeru, he remained seated; you would have expected, at the very least, a mild level of irritation from him, a scoff or mention of incompetence, but he was as cool and unaffected as you had seen him.  
  
He gestured slightly with two fingers. “Shigeru.” After a small start, Shigeru reached into his attache case and pulled out a somewhat thick file. “I had a feeling, so I took the liberty of having this drawn up,” he said to Dale, the look he pinned him with somehow managing to be simultaneously dismissive and chilly, “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind signing this agreement for us before you go.”  
  
Kaiba gestured again, and Shigeru stepped forward crisply, handing the file to Dale, opening it for him and gesturing lightly with his pen to a page near the end.  
  
Dale snatched the papers from Shigeru’s fingers, flipping through the opening pages and scanning them briefly. He hesitated on a page that appeared to be a photocopy of something, then flipped slowly to the next, which looked like a photograph. He blanched. “The fuck is this?”  
  
“The rights to your work on the Duel Monsters mobile app under Third Star Gaming,” Kaiba said, threading his fingers before himself. “I’m sure you’ll agree it’s just easier if we have full access to your illustrations and renderings.”  
  
Before Dale could object, Shigeru gently turned to the final page once more, gesturing to a passage. “You should find the compensations more than sufficient – if you please,” he interjected, motioning once more for Dale to take the pen.  
  
“The amount can be adjusted to suit you, I don’t really care. But most importantly, I need them. And you don’t.” Each word from Kaiba’s mouth was heavy with intention, pointed – although his tone was clipped and professional, the only thing that kept it from being a snarl was the lack of bared teeth.  
  
“Olson­_-san_, if you please,” Shigeru repeated, bowing slightly, his expression pleasant as he once again motioned for Dale to take the pen and sign the rights agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAAAAAHHH this one is so long and it took so much time. Sorry about the wait on this, y'all, I literally lost all concept of the passage of time ahahaha. BUT this chapter has been so long-awaited (literally and figuratively, apparently, but I'm talking about figuratively rn) that I hope it makes up for it. I call it Justin's Redemption, but Kaiba pulled it out there at the end too. In the original outline this was just kind of a boring filler to move the story forward, kinda, but it evolved to be a lot more important. And also I got a chance to develop my secret BroTP of Dick and RC.
> 
> But I'd like you all to welcome to the stage Sassmaster 9000, an RC who longer gives half of a fuck what comes out of her mouth. Long may she reign.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who left a kudos: Crystalia, BellsAshe, and guests; and all of my lovely commenters: haise_leonheart, sakuchwan, zymogen, Scarletbelle87, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, and HibiscusMist on Ao3, and harata-raven, dabi-haze, and all my lovely anonymice on Tumblr.
> 
> If you're feeling it, scoot your boot on over to my writing Tumblr [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com). We have fun, and I think you will too.


	16. Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ [You say you have the choice to feel happy or sad. Well I choose to be happy...so why do I feel so bad?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKggaLutz3c) _
> 
> TW for mild panic attack

Summer had snuck onto the scene before anyone had the chance to notice. The incident with Dale months before felt like a bare, perfunctory punctuation mark on the passage of time, a mere blip on the radar in the face of looming responsibility. There had been a brief reprise shortly afterward, but what had followed wasn’t concerning in the grand scheme of things: a childish removal of social media, some angry texts from a number you didn’t recognize, and, eventually, a voicemail from one that you did. Though you didn’t listen to it before deleting it, the glimpse of the visual voicemail transcript that you caught indicated it was a backhanded apology.  
  
You consulted with Jen, who listened long enough to hear his name before she recommended changing your phone number. She was only mildly disappointed that you had not kept the voicemail – purely as evidence, she assured you.  
  
After the incident had occurred, Richard and Jennifer had resumed their previous habit of checking in on you, but this go around they had made a small change and invited you to their home instead. The first time had been a strange shift for you, to be so long in such an unfamiliar environment, and considering they were just as awkward as you were, it was a truly uncomfortable experience.  
  
But, you thought on the drive home, there was something about their discomfort that was telling: they weren’t relaxed as they had been before the project had began, or even when they had spent time in your apartment. They were on guard, on their best behavior, as though they were trying to practice something new. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but when you noticed what was happening it put you more at ease, if only for their sake.  
  
Whatever journey they were on, they were at a far earlier stage than you, and you decided it was your responsibility to help them along as much as possible.  
  
There was more to it that nagged at you, though. More than seeing Richard in sweatpants, his hair coming loose from its hairgel hold as he became increasingly frustrated in dueling you; more than Jennifer bustling around in the kitchen, creating havoc and insistently shooing her fiancé out despite the clear chaos erupting behind her.  
  
“You seem like you guys are doing better,” you said as mildly as you could, flipping over a Quick Play magic to counter his trap.  
  
He cocked an eyebrow and screwed up his face incredulously at you – it was something unspoken that Dick and Jen preferred to keep the details of their life to themselves. But you couldn’t help but comment; after the accident, Dick’s face had scarcely shifted from its permascowl, but here, it seemed, in the safety of his own home, there was a relaxation to his features that you hadn’t seen in months.  
  
“You don’t have to tell me what it is,” you continued, setting a monster facedown, not looking at him. “But it’s true. You seem…lighter.”  
  
He didn’t answer for so long that you assumed he wasn’t going to; his gaze didn’t waver from the cards in his hand, a light frown on his face. Finally, he plucked a card between two fingers. “I’ll summon this in attack mode, and I’ll attack your facedown – even though it’s in defense mode, this card does piercing damage.”  
  
With a smile, you flipped it over. “Too bad, all damage done to this card goes straight to your life points. That’s game, buddy.”  
  
Richard threw up his hands in a mild display of irritation, sweeping an arm to gather his cards. Shuffling them idly, he didn’t raise his head as he said, finally, “I’ve been…going to see someone. A therapist.”  
  
“Ah?” Your chest warmed – you hadn’t expected him to open up even this much. “That’s great. I hope you get what you need from it. Is that what Jen has been doing, too, all this time, or – “  
  
“Hey, we’re not gonna talk about Jen when she isn’t in the room,” Jennifer announced, bearing flatware and silverware. “Almost done in here, will you two set up so we can eat?”  
  
You tossed her a short salute, gathering your deck and shuffling it sharply before putting it back into its box.  
  
Arranging the place settings, Richard continued not to look at you. “She’ll tell you when she’s ready. I imagine it will be sometime soon.”  
  
His voice seemed thick, and it occurred to you that they probably hadn’t done much opening up – no more than you had, certainly, and not to anyone but each other. You wondered how much Justin knew about their current goings-on. Nodding infinitesimally, you folded up the playmats and helped set the table, not forcing another response out of him.  
  
When the three of your sat to eat, the conversation shifted easily to work. It would have difficult not to: the project you had all worked so hard on, had all suffered through to varying degrees, was almost at an end. The final touches were being made, the graphics and mechanics being polished to a high sheen. And one more touch that Mokuba and Kitagawa had announced in passing with nothing but a wink and a “_you’ll see._”  
  
“I’ll be glad when this is over,” Jen announced primly, passing her fiancé a bowl of brussels sprouts. “If it hasn’t been one thing, it’s been another – I haven’t been forced to work this hard since exams in school. And that’s saying something.”  
  
You picked at the food on your plate, flashing her a playful look. “Oh? Even you? Thought you’d still be walking on air, getting to talk to Kaiba Seto as much as you have. I think you’ve had more facetime than the rest of us combined.”  
  
“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes, her body slumping with the motion – you weren’t certain if the dramatic reaction was from a place of sincerity, or if she was trying to keep the attention on herself to distract from the tension that very suddenly appeared in Richard’s shoulders. “Yeah, but at what cost? Honestly, if I never have to go to Domino again, it’ll be too soon.”  
  
“You aren’t,” Dick said tersely, taking an aggressive sip of his beer. “It’s been decided that it’s you and me again,” he said to you, putting the glass down with a heavy _clink_.  
  
“Mm. I get why he keeps requesting me – this is my department’s bread and butter, it would be strange if I wasn’t involved, but Justin would really make more sense.”  
  
“Still not allowed in the building,” Jennifer reminded you, stifling a giggle. “And I suppose, Dick, you are the next best thing.”  
  
The look on his face turned sour, and he discreetly rubbed his leg – you and Jennifer pointedly glanced at the food on your plates. “I guess. Can’t say this is what I signed up for when Justin contacted us,” he muttered to Jen, who gently reached over to squeeze his fingers. “But we’ll get it done.”  
  
“Almost done,” you echoed brightly. “Do you remember when we’re supposed to be going over for launch? Next week, or – “  
  
“Week after. Mokuba wouldn’t tell me much, but it’s to do with the trains.”  
  
To Jennifer’s relief, your only response was a noncommittal sound. Between you and Richard, you imagined she had heard more about those fucking trains than she ever wanted to – especially after Kaiba’s visit to the Third Star offices. His presence in the office had been brief, and neither he nor his secretary had so much as mentioned the accident or its aftermath. And at the time, this had infuriated you – indeed, you had intended on confronting one or the other about it when you found the chance, had the visit not wrapped up in the precise way that it had.  
  
The situation with so many words unsaid left a bitter pit in your stomach, roiling with acid, but you forced yourself to focus on the work in front of you to move past it (at Dr. Lucas’s insistence). This was easier said than done: even though, blessedly, there were few enough trains in your area that it wasn’t able to take a proper hold in your subconscious, it tormented you in other, smaller ways, from the barest ring of a glass put down too close to another on a restaurant table to the moments when you had to stomp on the brakes during traffic, the sensations sent electric chills up and down your spine, shorting out your vision and bringing a current of bile up your esophagus.  
  
And you were feeling about the same as Jennifer, in truth: the sooner this was all over, the better.  
  
Fuck Justin’s plan.

* * *

“Duelists! No more do you have to be limited by your environment – if you want glory, it is yours to take, just there at your fingertips! If you have a mobile phone and a connection to the internet, then you too can battle your way to the top, just like the greats have across time!”  
  
A keen eye raking across the crowd that had gathered in the stands and before the stage, you stood just off of the dais, translating as best and as quickly as you could for Richard. Even he looked impressed when you finished.  
  
“Didn’t expect him to be such a showman,” Richard muttered, rubbing his leg absently and leaning heavily on the stool that Matsubara had grabbed for him. “I expected more…”  
  
“Terse, right? I know, but apparently he laps up the attention, and dishes it back out.” In spite of yourself, you cast an appreciative glance back at the makeshift stage; at this point, Kaiba had moved on to the demonstration portion of his speech. Now that he had gotten the crowd nice and worked up, even something so blasé as taking his phone from his pocket had a flare of the dramatic, and since his and Date’s phones had been connected wirelessly to the big screen televisions, the crowd could see everything as it happened.  
  
“This city does love him,” you continued, turning back to your friend with a light shrug.  
  
“’Course they do!” Mokuba approached from a side wing, flashing a grin and a thumbs up. Though it wasn’t rare to see him with a smile on his face, he fairly radiated warmth, pride sparkling from his eyes. “KaibaCorp and _nii-sama_ take real good care of the city. And so, Domino takes care of him back. He’d never admit it, but this is the happiest he’s been in a long time. Hasn’t had the chance for something on this scale in a while.”  
  
You offered an indulgent smile. “Who knew he thrived on drama?”  
  
A slightly strangled noise attempted to force its way from Mokuba’s throat, though he kept his face composed. “Honestly, the biggest surprise for me is that he kept the coat. Good thinking on your part,” he said, flashing another thumbs up at you, which you returned.  
  
“Don’t thank me, that was Rebecca’s idea. I’m not surprised it tested positively here, but the overseas demo numbers were definitely higher than I was expecting.” You peeked around the curtain, feeling particularly pleased with yourself despite your words. Bringing back the iconic white trench had only technically been Rebecca’s idea, but along the same vein as the calendar, you weren’t sure if she was joking. Coordinating with Mokuba on it, though, had been a breeze, and running the numbers had only taken a matter of days.  
  
You weren’t sure what Mokuba told his brother to get him to wear it, but the statistics had been unmistakable: the coat was here to stay.  
  
But, just like his brother, you had been surprised to see that Kaiba still had the original coat, in all its glory. There were hints of age and wear that no amount of dry-cleaning could have removed, but the most notable evidence that it was not a replication was the fit. You covered a snicker with a cough as Kaiba, not for the first time, tugged futilely at the lapels that wouldn’t quite cover his chest.  
  
The demonstration with Date finished in about the time you expected – you weren’t certain, though, if the reason why was that they wanted to breeze through it quickly, or if that really was her level – but once the proverbial dust settled as her last life points dropped, there was a raucous cheer and the frenetic energy of the crowd seemed to surge as children, teens, and adults flocked to their friends to begin playing the game.  
  
As it happened, another suggestion that your department had passed along to Mokuba was of a workshop – the demonstration might not have been a clear enough example of the rules and overall gameplay, and who better than a seasoned veteran like Kaiba to show the crowd how it was done, so to speak. You had expected much more pushback – honestly, more pushback than the coat – but this had been waved off as a given, and you peered around the curtain once more as a swarm of preselected young folk gathered around Kaiba for his battle-tested tips and tricks.  
  
“Ah, he’ll be busy with that for a good while yet,” Mokuba said the warmth sloughing from him in waves. “You two should make your way around, play the game a bit. Your profiles from alpha are still logged, so you should still have all of that, and we added some stuff that I think you guy’s’ll like.” He hesitated with the barest glance at Richard. “In your time, of course.”  
  
You forced a laugh. “I think we’ll be good as far as the game goes. I’d like to mingle a bit, though,” you said askance to Richard, who glanced up. “Just nearby. I want to hear what everyone is saying.”  
  
With a pained, resigned look, Richard nodded, heaving himself up. He was at an odd transitionary period in his recovery to where he didn’t necessarily need the cane to get around, and had pounced on the idea with some zeal – nevermind the fact that it certainly would have made his life easier. “No,” he grunted, standing. “We can spread out beyond the stadium. I would like to play a little bit as well, to get Justin and his guys in development a quick report.” He turned to Mokuba. “You said there were surprises? Don’t think Justin’ll like that.”  
  
Mokuba grinned. “Disagree. Me and _nii-sama_ have talked a lot about Carriger-_san_, and this is about the one thing we agree on. You’ll see.”  
  
Hovering just by Richard’s elbow as he rifled through his suit jacket’s pocket for his mobile phone, you arced a dubious brow. “That makes me nervous. Can we get a hint?”  
  
If possible, the grin widened and, if possible, made you more nervous. Mokuba lifted his fingers to his face, twisting an imaginary key into the lock of his pursed lips, then shrugging. He flashed a brief peace sign before excusing himself to help with the children’s workshop. “I recommend the museum!” he called over his shoulder.  
  
“Yes, thanks for all that help.” You turned to Richard, who tapped his login information into the app on his phone. “The museum, you think?”  
  
He shook his head. “We’ll take our time. You wanted to get some sentiment?”  
  
You smirked softly, nodding. It was as close to an admission that he needed to go slowly as you would get from him, but you took it anyway. You gestured to a group of young girls that stood off stage, their eyes sparkling with interest, flashing awed glances all about the event around them. “Gonna start with them. You’re going to play some?”  
  
He nodded, flashing you the briefest grin. “Wanted to test out the challenge system.”  
  
You returned the grin, knowing what it truly meant. It had taken you a long time and a lot of hard work to get there, but you felt comfortable translating his small gestures into something meaningful. “You mean you wanted to test out your deck now that you know what type you want to play.”  
  
“Is it cheating if I already have the full library?” There was a tease in his tone, the acknowledgement that you were correct.  
  
You snorted, already making your way over to the group of girls. “Doesn’t matter what cards you have if the skill level isn’t there with it. _Sumane, minna-san_!”  
  
As it turned out, gathering the information that you wanted, in many cases, required a duel, especially among teenage boys. It was always a teasing challenge, an _if you want this you have to work for it_, and in almost all of these cases you won the match handily – in a prolonged effort not to let it get to your head, you responded to every “_suge, nee-san!” _with a slight incline of your head and a modest, “_thanks._”  
  
You weaved your way through the crowd, taking notes as diligently as you could on the overall feelings of the game. The one that stood out most prominently to you was “_I feel included_”, followed shortly by “_I feel empowered_,” with a rare sprinkling of “_I feel out of place_” – by its nature, you spent more time with these people, and, in spite of yourself, began offering brief tips. Usually the assurance of your expertise paired with the easy win was enough to win their trust and bolster their confidence, but on more than one occasion you found yourself fumbling over a very truncated account of your expertise.  
  
Though the progress you had made, in general and with regard to the situation, was enormous, these interactions exhausted you incredibly. After each of these instances of having to provide your dueling credentials, inside of the stadium and with Kaiba himself a stone’s throw away, drew your heart to frantic beating. Your hands shook much more gentler than they ever had, but with more consistency, until eventually you gave up trying to steady them and set out to find Richard.  
  
He, apparently, had also become fatigued with everything, and you found him propped on one of the bleacher seats near the entrance, presumably waiting for you. He glanced up from the screen when he heard your approach, raising a single finger in acknowledgement before returning to the match he was playing.  
  
You sat and waited, taking slow, calming breaths through your nose, holding them at the rise and forcing the exhale to escape more slowly than the inhale, repeating the process a few times until the shaking in your hands was a mere afterthought.  
  
Richard swung his legs down from his seat, raising a pointed eyebrow at your hands clasped together in your lap. “Good?”  
  
“Super. How much did you win?”  
  
Grunting once, an indication to you that he was allowing you to brush the topic aside, he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Less than I thought I would. I know the deck is right, but I can’t seem to get the hang of the combos.”  
  
You extended a hand and heaved him up, letting him push away to steady himself, offering what you hoped was a helpful and not at all condescending glance at the loss screen still visible on his phone. “You didn’t choose any easy archetype to work with – maybe stick with the basics for a little longer until you’re more comfortable? You liked the Crush Cards,” you reminded him.  
  
The look he responded with bordered on offended, and he made his way toward the exit of the stadium. “If a card is so easy to use that it gets banned in most circumstances, then I don’t want to use it. What’s funny?”  
  
You fought with your expression, biting gently into the finger you pressed against your lips. “That’ll be a story for another time, I think. Museum? I want to see what, ah, _surprises_ they planned for us.” You raised mocking air quotes around the word ‘surprises’, grimacing.  
  
“They said they agreed that Justin would love it.”  
  
“And isn’t he just the pinnacle of good judgement?” You tapped into your phone idly, pulling up a map of the city. “So, okay, look, museum is here and stadium is here. It’s not a long walk, but…”  
  
Richard scowled at you. “Don’t do that. It’ll just take me longer.”  
  
“Oh for – “ You rolled your eyes aggressively. “Okay, so walking is out,” you continued pointedly, “and I don’t want to wait for the bus, if I’m honest.” You paused to gnaw your lip briefly.  
  
The expression on his face didn’t flicker for even a moment. “What?” Richard asked dryly. “You don’t want to take the train? It’s state of the art.”  
  
In spite of yourself, you felt a sticky laugh peel out of your throat. Muttering dark asides had become commonplace for the two of you in lieu of actual conversation about the accident, neither of you truly wanting to _talk about it_ but wanting the security of someone who knew what you were feeling. You had brought it up hesitantly to Dr. Lucas, and had encouraged Richard to open up to someone about it, but whenever the subject came up you simply brushed it aside in your anger, biting down on your cheek until you could taste copper.  
  
But a joke?  
  
“You ever think we might actually be moving past this whole unpleasantness?” you teased.  
  
He snorted, his eyes scanning the wave of people moving along the entry lot of the stadium. “God, I hope not. It’s like half of my personality right now. Hey, I think that’s the guy who drove us from the airport. Isn’t it?”  
  
Looking in the direction of his finger, you shaded your eyes from the high afternoon sun. “Think you’re right. Looks like he’s on a break right now? Dunno, let’s go see if he’ll take us.”  
  
You jogged over to the driver, letting Richard take his time as you spoke to the driver in Japanese. “Hello! Remember us? You drove us from – “  
  
Flicking the ash from his cigarette, the driver gave you a strange look, but merely nodded. “Yes, I’m your driver.”  
  
You bowed slightly, smiling. “Yes, you drove us from the airport. Hey, would you mind taking us to the museum? He – “ you gestured to Richard, who had limped up beside you, tucking his hands into his pockets, “ – isn’t so good with the walking right now, and – “  
  
The strange look on the driver’s face intensified, and he let the cigarette drop from his fingers, grinding the butt into the ground with his toe. “Yes,” he repeated, “I’m your driver. You want to go to the museum?”  
  
“Ah, yes.” You canted your head in bemusement, but nevertheless obeyed the gesture to get into the car. You knew your Japanese was still rusty, but there was something about that interaction that felt off in particular – you didn’t think you had let your skill with the language get so bad that you couldn’t convey a request for transport. The sentence structure was too simple for that request to be mistaken, and yet you still felt like something had certainly gotten lost in translation. “That was weird,” you muttered, absently offering your arm to stabilize Richard’s entry into the car ahead of you.  
  
He froze, glancing back at you. “Wait, he is taking us to the right place, isn’t he? You didn’t forget the word for ‘museum’, did you?”  
  
“No, no, not that. We’re definitely going to the museum, it’s just…” You replayed the interaction in your head as you pulled the seatbelt across your lap. “I dunno, it was just _weird_.”  
  
Sure enough, with no satisfying answer to what exactly had gone wrong but with the nagging feeling that something had, the car pulled up to the museum. Promptly upon letting you out, the driver resumed his posture against the hood of the car, flicking another cigarette out of the package and lighting it.  
  
You bowed your thanks and waved at him, offering your arm once more to Richard to escape the cabin. Predictably, he waved you off and struggled out on his own, straightening the lapels of his jacket with a huff.  
  
You dug your phone from your pocket, tapping open the app. “Wonder if we need to – oh, nope, guess not.” As if on cue, the phone buzzed in your hand, and a challenge banner appeared. “Showtime, I guess. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”  
  
Richard, for all his practice, groaned his defeat no later than five moves into the match, and even from your end you could see why: it was a Gravekeeper deck. You had seen them played as a spectator, and you had seen the cards in the shop, but you had never actually dueled one.  
  
The AI was very good, and you had to wonder idly who it was supposed to be based on. Surely if it was a deliberate addition, then it would be an important duelist – but, wracking your brain, you could not for the life of you remember a Gravekeeper deck having been used. Waiting for the opponent AI to make its move, you glanced up at the columns of the museum; for that matter, you thought, drawing your attention back to the duel to set two cards, you couldn’t remember an important match being played here.  
  
Though you weren’t necessarily in any place to decide what counted as important, you corrected yourself. You cursed lightly as the opponent AI utilized a rapid-fire five-step combo, filling its monster slots in one chain. “Jesus, fuck. Okay, this is fine, we’ve got this, it’s just down to this next draw.”  
  
With some interest, Richard peered over your shoulder – he kept silent out of respect for your concentration, but you could feel the quiet support in the soft snuffle he gave when he saw the field.  
  
Short breath in, hold it, long breath out. You drew.  
  
“Ah!” Hunter With Seven Weapons. “Thank god. Okay, in the bag.”  
  
It took a couple more turns to magic the words into truth, but the effect monster helped you clear the field and the opponent’s life points. The fireworks lit up the screen, and you sighed in relief. “Great, now let’s see what those boys have – “  
  
Your vision went black almost immediately, the familiar low ring building up your spinal column into your ears. Vaguely you registered that the grip you had on your phone slackened, the device dipping from your fingers and falling with a faraway _clack_ onto the pavement.  
  
The hum built up to a crackle. Distantly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, warm and secure though you shivered from the weight of it – you sensed more than heard Richard calling for you from a great distance away.  
  
The shake returned to your hands, and you forcefully dragged yourself back to the present moment, biting into your cheek, letting the sharp pain ground you as your eyes drifted to the ground where your phone still lay, screen face up, fireworks flashing merrily at you as the great lipless maw grinned its awful smile up at you.  
  
Obelisk.  
  
You had won Obelisk from the Gravekeeper duel.  
  
_You had –   
  
__Obeli –   
  
_The hand on your shoulder tightened, and you stiffened at the sound of your name. Slowly, so slowly, you knelt, fingers gently gripping the edges of the phone, holding it at a distance from your body as though it were venomous.  
  
Without looking at your friend, you heard the words leave your throat softly. “He programmed in the god cards.”  
  
“What?” A simple request for information. Richard kept his face carefully blank as you brought yourself back together.  
  
“The god cards,” you snapped, flashing the screen at him. “He programmed in the _god cards_, Dick, he – “ And then, as though all of the progress you had made over the last several months had meant so little, your words tumbled out of you in an flood, a panic. “Jesus Christ, I can’t believe – _the god cards, Dick_ – where did he even – I can’t believe – _people died!_”  
  
Still keeping his expression calm, Richard reached out a hand for your shoulder to steady you. He called your name, a touch gentler than you were used to, but it made no difference.  
  
You minimized the game app, immediately pulling up Skype. “What the fuck was he thinking,” you muttered furiously, searching through the contacts.  
  
“What are you doing?” Still calm in the face of your panic, Richard leaned somewhat to catch your eye.  
  
“I’m gonna ask him what the fuck he was thinking. Ah, here we go.” You tapped his name on the list, perhaps a touch aggressively.  
  
As though waiting for a call, the line rang but once before an answer. “Progress report?”  
  
_No, sir._ “What the fuck are you thinking?” you snarled into the speaker.  
  
There was a beat of chilly silence before the screen blinked, displaying his face as he forced the call into a video call. His mouth said, “Excuse me?” but his expression certainly did not.  
  
“’_A surprise_’?” you spat, your tone full of mocking vehemence. “You programmed in _the god cards_, why wouldn’t you tell us that, you can’t just – “  
  
“You’re at the museum?” His tone lightened, and his expression lifted at the information. Far from guilt, though, his words became immediately laced with piqued interest. “You beat the duelist in the museum? What did you think? How many turns did it take you?”  
  
“_Those cards hurt people, Kaiba!_”  
  
Another beat of silence, and you could see the light flicker in his eyes, though his expression remained unreadable. Then, very quietly, the speaker caught the barest mutter of, “Oh for,” then he raised his chin. “We’ve talked about this. You’re here for the purpose of the project because you’ve been deemed the best fit – you made the decision to continue working on it, despite whatever issues you have with me personally.”  
  
You opened your mouth to object, and the full force of his glare stopped you.  
  
“No, don’t you dare. I’ve seen your work – you aren’t stupid, and you aren’t weak, so why you’re continuing to let your past dictate to you is beyond me, but I will not allow this to continue to affect this project. If you can’t recuse yourself objectively – “  
  
“How about a duel?”  
  
Both sets of eyes flashed to Richard. You had forgotten that he was there, so lost in the rage that had built into your chest and up your throat like hot bile. “What?” you and Kaiba asked in tandem.  
  
Richard crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes fixed on Kaiba’s through the screen. The cock of his eyebrow only hinted at what was going on in his head – he seemed to have picked up something that you hadn’t in your angry haze, and had the benefit of being the objective third party who knew both sides of a story.  
  
“A duel,” he repeated. “I don’t know much about what you’re talking about with these cards, but I can see the benefits of keeping them in. But,” he added, finally raising his face to yours, “if they’re as, _ahem_, dangerous as she’s saying, then maybe keeping them a secret isn’t the best idea.”  
  
You stared in numb shock, trying very hard to overcome the feeling of betrayal that spread down your cheeks like tears. You knew what he was doing, and if you had been in a more objective frame of mind, you would have agreed – if it had been any situation but yours, it would have been so easy just to say “_You’re right, I can see both sides_.”  
  
_But he programmed in the god cards.  
  
_Your teeth ground together so hard and so suddenly that the headache blossomed immediately. “A duel,” you parroted. Dr. Lucas had been hinting at it for months, and you skirted around it for so long – _I’m not ready, this is fine, if I just practice I don’t need…_ – but then all the rage cascaded up from your chest in a wave. “A duel. If I win, you remove the god cards.”  
  
You blithely ignored as Richard raised his hands in defense, barely heard him as he said, “Whoa, now, that’s not – “  
  
“They’ll stay.”  
  
“They won’t,” you insisted. “If I win, they won’t.”  
  
Kaiba was quiet for a moment, all cool consideration, then a small smirk bloomed across his lips. “If you win, we’ll patch them as an event. If I win, they stay, and you are removed from any future partnerships with my company.”  
  
“Fine,” you ground out.  
  
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally at the concession, though his smirk widened, and you felt your knees weaken at the familiarity of the expression. “Come back to the stadium, and we’ll do this in a proper arena with proper equipment.”  
  
“Fine.” The bridge of your nose scrunched at the word, dripping with venom.  
  
If possible, the smirk widened. “And while we’re at it, you’ll help me test the newest version of the duel disk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for being so patient with me with this one! This one has a lot going on in it, too. And next we've got another duel coming up - kind of. You'll see what I mean when we get there. So that might take a little time too. But we are certainly trucking right on into the story now, lawd.
> 
> Thanks as always to everyone who left a kudos: QueensGambit, mia826, Vyxen, Siyrex, Watto, Anticipation, and guests! And all of the lovely, lovely people who chatted with me: haise_leonhart, sakuchwan, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, Scartletbelle87, FUTUREanon, mia826, and Gale on Ao3 and harata-raven and all of the lovely anonymice on Tumblr.
> 
> Also as always, if you're feeling it, head on over to my writing Tumblr [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com). Lately it's been a lot of excuses on my part, but in general it's a good time lmao


	17. Trembling Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _Now here I am, I'm a drop in your ocean. Noise in the crowd, pushing through your halls of reason. Throw me a line, somebody out there help me. I'm on my own, I'm on my own._ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iW0uYfq3VLU)

_The bar you and your friend had come to was a familiar one, although some of the faces tonight weren’t. Keith, the bartender, was in the middle of training a young woman who fluttered after him with an expression like a broken bird, the low lighting making her flickered gazes at the patrons more panicked than was necessary. When you had ordered your customary boilermaker by name, she blanched, and cast a concerned glance over her shoulder – Keith shot you a scolding look, not uncrossing his arms from his stance behind her, and gently explained what the drink was to her in a low tone, pointedly adding that it was okay to ask someone to elaborate when you snickered.  
  
__That was four drinks ago, and though you had apologized for your bad attempt at teasing and smiled gently every time she made a drink for you afterward, she still looked at you like a wounded animal. Part of you felt bad, and acknowledged it was maybe a step too far – the other part of you ruffled its feathers and decided that she wouldn’t make it the semester.  
  
__Your roommate Courtney glanced at her watch, sighing before taking a heavy sip of her colorful mixed drink. She set it down on the table with a _thunk_ that let you know she had crossed the threshold into slightly tipsy, pushing the rest of the drink over to you – you swapped out the straws with a flick, cocking an eyebrow at her while she stood and began to wind the scarf around her neck.  
  
__“You’re kidding,” you said around the straw. “It isn’t even 1, is it?” You did not lean to find the clock.  
  
__Fluffing her hair out of the scarf and the mantle of her coat, she fixed you with a tired look. “My statistics exam is tomorrow. I want to review before I go to bed. You’re gonna make it home okay?”  
  
__The tiny basement apartment you shared with her was within walking distance, but only barely. Keith had taken your keys out of habit, a tradition that had started with a blatant lie the year previous, but that hadn’t necessarily stopped cat-and-mouse-esque shenanigans from happening in the past.  
  
__To reassure her, you shook your head and jerked a thumb over your shoulder. “Considering I intend to find my way back well into tomorrow, I think we’ll be good. Gonna see how far I can make it with that TA over there – I wanna see if he’ll T my A, if you know what I mean.”  
  
__If anything, the exhaustion in Courtney’s eyes deepened, but she humored you by glancing at him discreetly. By the face she made, she couldn’t blame you for wanting to try. She slung the strap of her purse across her torso, then canted her head. “I thought you were still with Steven?”  
  
__“Steven? Nah.” Dismissively, you flapped a hand. “I don’t think that one’s going anywhere. Doesn’t seem dependable, does he?"  
  
__Courtney’s brow knit. “You sure? He helped me move into the dorm in my freshman year – he’s a sweet guy. I have a friend in anatomy who he’s helping – his uncle is friends with that professor or something, and he’s the one who introduced them.”  
  
__You shook your head, glancing over your shoulder. “Dunno what it is. I guess it’s in his eyes, they’re shifty, I don’t trust him.”  
  
__Here, your roommate actually rolled her eyes, well used to hearing this spiel from you. “Are you kidding? He’s basically Clark Goddamn Kent. I know what you’re doing. You can’t keep – “  
  
__“I thought you had a statistics exam tomorrow?” you cut her off pointedly, raising your chin and meeting her gaze with perhaps a touch of unnecessary defiance.  
  
__Undeterred, she pressed on delicately, “I’m just saying, you have this habit – “  
  
__“I didn’t know you had changed your major, Court,” you snapped, flicking the straw in her discarded drink idly before raising your gaze to hers pointedly. “I personally couldn’t see you as a shrink, but then I guess I just don’t know people as well as you do.”  
  
__Her jaw closed with a _snap_ and she fixed you with a pained look. There was silence for a beat while you regarded each other. Finally, she huffed a small sigh. “I moved the hide-a-key. It’s next to the succulents now. I was gonna pick up a juice from the bar on 8th on the way back from my exam, do you want one?”  
  
__“A 9 with rhubarb,” you replied, downing the rest of Courtney’s leftover drink and gesturing to Keith that you’d like another. “Please. Thanks.” You flashed a smile at your roommate, which she returned before swiveling on her heel to leave the bar.  
  
__“Last one,” Keith warned, placing the mixed drink in front of you.  
  
__You raised your hands in submission as you slid from the seat. “Promise.”  
  
__As though you belonged there, you made your way over to where your mark sat and slipped into the seat next to him – you performed an ostentatious double-take before allowing a surprised smile to cross your lips. “Hello handsome, fancy running into you here.”  
  
__He raised a dubious brow, but you saw the corner of his lips twitch upward. “Not too much of a surprise, I hope – I’ve been watching you watching me for the last hour.”  
  
__In a display of exaggerated relief, you wiped the back of your hand over your forehead. “_Phew_! I’m glad I came over when I did, then, or this never would have gone anywhere!” you teased, making a show of crossing your legs in his direction, plopping your chin onto your palm.  
  
__“Guess not,” he agreed wryly, eyes flicking down to the movement your legs made. “So where is it going now?”  
  
__Your lips curled upward in a catlike manner, and you maintained steady eye contact with him. “I was hoping you’d tell me,” you said, voice low with intent.  
  
__It was a familiar dance, this preliminary back and forth. If there were any objections, they’d have been voiced long before this point, so you knew it was only a matter of time before the inevitable: last call would be announced, the drinks would be paid for, and then the steady walk back to the apartment of your chosen companion. If there was conversation, there was a little awkwardness, that gentle undercurrent as they tried to convince you that they didn’t do this very often, and your teasing return that you would teach them.  
  
__Once you crossed the threshold of their place, how much of a lie that was became apparent as the more confident of them would push you against the wall (or vice versa, if they genuinely did not do this very often). The following hours, too, were often similar – an aggressive, frantic push for release, the occasional gentle afterglow, a joke about eggs in the morning. It never took much convincing for them to allow you to stay the night, at most a gentle nibble along the lobe of their ear.  
  
__It was such a familiar dance that you couldn’t have told many of them apart, if truth be told – and early in your relationship with her, Courtney had pressed for details, curious in the way that new friends are. The steps were so similar between partners that you could have performed them in your sleep.  
  
__But even knowing this, even on your most self-aware days acknowledging that the end result would be the same, you couldn’t help but be disappointed as you slipped out of your nameless friend’s bed in the wee hours of the morning, slipping your clothes back on as you padded to his bathroom to lock yourself inside and weep yourself to a tenuous sleep._

* * *

You and Richard were well on your way back to the stadium and you still had not calmed down. To bite down your rage, your teeth ground until your jaw hurt, and your fingers tapped a rhythm against your legs. Finally, you snapped at Richard, “I can’t fucking believe he put those cards in. And without telling me! As if I’m not the chief marketing officer of the goddamn company that’s goddamn – I just – I can’t – _fuck_, Richard. _Fuck_.”  
  
Having been scrolling on the KaibaCorp issued phone for the duration of the car ride, Richard glanced up at you. He kept his expression bland, and when he finally spoke he said, “Apparently these allow us to see our friends’ decks.”  
  
You stopped short of your seething. “What?”  
  
He waved the phone in answer. “Our friends’ decks. Our developers put in a feature that we can request friendship with specific duelists, and when they accept, we can see each others’ decks.”  
  
A furrow appeared in your brow. You remembered that feature – it was one that many in the beta felt ambivalent about. On the one hand, in a friendly context, it allowed you to help friends out with strategy over long distances, and it even allowed for the future ability to trade cards. However, many more experienced competitive duelists found the feature to be invasive, and removed a lot of the challenge of a true in-person duel.  
  
“I remember. If you’re saying that I should have seen this coming – “  
  
Richard’s tone was tired as he silenced you with your name, and he cocked an incredulous brow at you. Instead of continuing to speak, though, all he did was hold out the phone to you. A quick glance showed a familiar set of white wings and blue eyes, and you realized what he was doing.  
  
The rage built up once more, and you tasted acid. “No. I don’t need help. His strategies have never been a secret, and if I can duel him once without needing to cheat, I can do it again.”  
  
“You didn’t win that time, though.” Again, Richard kept his tone deliberately even.  
  
You flushed, an enormous wave of emotion crashing over you. You knew he was saying it as a gentle reminder, and even though it was a pointed statement, you could find the layers of information he was trying to convey: _my friend I don’t want you to be hurt again, my comrade I want you to be successful_. Still, the blatant expression of the truth rankled, felt like an accusation, a reminder of all of the pain you had gone through over the simple fact that you did not, in fact, win the last time you had faced Kaiba in a duel.  
  
Faintly, you felt the now all too familiar pinpricks along your fingers, the distant whistling beginning anew in your ears and the black dots emerging in the periphery of your vision. You noticed these things, acknowledged them; you gulped, ground your teeth painfully once more, and simply said, “So?”  
  
But as the car pulled up along the curb to the stadium and the driver walked around the side of the car to open the door, you realized that you both knew he was right to be concerned. The telltale shake had overtaken your hands, and the tips of your fingers felt as cold as your lips. Still, you were determined not to back down from your anger, which still kept the warm fire of righteousness burning in your chest.  
  
Richard didn’t complain at the long, resolute strides you took into a side entrance to the stadium, keeping up well enough down the hallways as you made your way into the stadium proper, the only signs of his struggle being the soft grunts he let out with every other step.  
  
Your head was held high, and you held your breath to keep your courage taking those final steps from the hall to the epicenter of the stadium.  
  
And then all the breath escaped you at once when your eyes caught your opponent, standing just as he often did, the slight summer breeze whipping the familiar coat about his legs, the setting sun painting the sky with a sheen of gold and indigo and lighting a delicate halo over his ruffled hair. If it hadn’t been for the firm hand Richard placed on your shoulder, you would have been lost in yourself, transported back to another summer day in an age far too long past. Hands still shaking, you straightened, and made your way over to where Kaiba stood, arms crossed.  
  
Mokuba and Shigeru flanked him; Shigeru held a familiar metal briefcase, and Mokuba a small, electric blue rectangular box. The elder Kaiba looked down his nose imperiously at you as you approached, jerking his head over one shoulder.  
  
“I’ll give you the time to build your deck. You’ll have your choice of whatever cards you need, so there won’t be any excuses when you lose.”  
  
Though you still felt cold and the shrill whistling distracted you, a flush rose in your chest. You had been working on completing your newest deck for months as a therapeutic exercise, and you and Richard had played some friendly duels in the hotel room. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. “I don’t need your charity, Kaiba-_san_, I have my deck.”  
  
He made a small _tsk_ sound. “I hope it’s better than the one you used in Battle City,” he scoffed, extending a hand to Mokuba, who handed him the blue box.  
  
You took it from him, and hoped that your voice sounded more confident than you felt when you responded, “I could say the same for you.”  
  
It took all of your effort to keep your eyes on his face, not to let your focus slip down the dark tunnel that threatened to form around your field of vision. Nevertheless, you didn’t think you imagined Mokuba’s smirk widening at your comment.  
  
If Kaiba felt any irritation at your words, he didn’t show it, simply smirking his acknowledgement and turning on his heel to stride across the field, whipping around when he reached his place with a flourish of his coat. Richard gave you one final squeeze on your shoulder before he followed Mokuba and Shigeru to the stands, and you took your place opposite Kaiba, fumbling through numb fingers to attach the duel disk to your wrist.  
  
As though the gods themselves blessed the duel, the setting sun gleamed along the panels of screens around the perimeter of the arena, and the wind stirred.  
  
You slipped your deck into the deck slot, and you and Kaiba activated the duel disks in tandem.  
  
“DUEL!”  
  
[4000/4000]  
  
You shivered as the new duel disk sent currents of unfamiliar energy up your arm; it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, if you thought about it, similar to rivulets of cold water curling up your arm and around your fingers. But the shock of it left you speechless, and Kaiba jumped on the opportunity to draw first.  
  
“_Ore no taan_!” With a flourish very like him, he drew, the motion sweeping the trenchcoat about his legs, and in that moment you felt another shockwave course through your body, the corners of your vision whiting out momentarily as his figure was replaced with another, much younger, much slimmer version of himself. You shook yourself, clenching fists tight, the pinpricks of your fingernails against your palm bringing you back just as he announced the end of his turn.  
  
Kaiba canted his head, looking at you expectantly, calmly, like someone watching a wild animal to see how it was going to react. He allowed a beat to pass before calling out in a tone you couldn’t quite place, “What’s wrong, _zako_? Now that the first cards have been played, you’ve lost your fire? You can always surrender.”  
  
Letting out a shaky breath, you drew your card, trying to assess the field at the same time as considering your hand – he had summoned Dark Blade and set a card, from what you could see. Checking the Life Points as discretely as you could, you noted that this appeared to be all. You exhaled again, a bracing huff, and let your gut guide you.  
  
“I summon Thunder Nyan Nyan to the field in attack position,” you announced, horrified at the uncertain tone in your voice. The cat-girl appeared, and she, at least, seemed more confident than you, twirling the drumsticks between her claws with a surge of electricity, sending Kaiba a coy wink. “Then, I attack Dark Blade with Thunder Nyan Nyan.”  
  
Her shoulders scrunched in feline pleasure, and she smashed the drumsticks together thrice in preparation before bringing them down onto her drumset with a mighty crash of thunder, shocking the black knight from toe to helm as he shattered into dark dust, scattering with the evening breeze.  
  
[3900/4000]  
  
If Kaiba felt the change to his Life Points, he did not show it, his face still blank as he crossed his arms. Casting a quick, desperate glance to familiarize yourself with your hand, you plucked a magic card and played it.  
  
“And I activate Shard of Greed from my hand – for each turn I make a regular draw, one Greed Token is placed on this card,” you explained, pausing heavily as you continued to try to make sense of the cards in your hand. In the months that you had been playing casually with Richard and Jennifer, you had never struggled so much to come up with a strategy, never felt so lost with your own deck. “And then I end my turn,” you added lamely.  
  
The same contemplative look remained on Kaiba’s face as he announced his turn and drew. You braced yourself for something – a taunt, a vicious combo, a monster, _anything_ – but he simply crossed his arms over his chest without playing anything. “_Taan shuryou_,” he said simply, levelling his gaze on you calmly.  
  
What…?  
  
You hadn’t been exaggerating when you told Richard that Kaiba’s strategies were incredibly well known – he never kept them a secret, and he had once been prolific in the tournament scene. He was renowned for his Beatdown strategies, Swarming strategies, Deck Destruction combos… To waste a turn was…uncharacteristic, to say the least.  
  
You had no time to consider it further, as he called out in the same cool, almost bored tone, “I ended my turn, foreigner.”  
  
You bristled in offense at his choice to switch from Japanese to English, and snapped back at him in his own tongue, “I understood, Kaiba-_san_. I draw.” Fingers somewhat numb, they slipped over the surface of the card clumsily as you tried to add it to your hand, ignoring the cool eyes across the field. A single, laughing green coin appeared on the surface of your Shard of Greed card. “One Greed token is added to Shard of Greed,” you called unnecessarily, to calm yourself; then, “And I summon Jowgen the Spiritualist to the field.”  
  
A small cyclone of luminous color appeared on your field, and the monk settled himself serenely, his robes falling about his person. “While Jowgen is face up on the field, no Special Summons can be performed,” you called. It was likely that this was what Kaiba was going for – he often did, wanting to bring his Blue Eyes out en masse as quickly as possible. Jowgen was a band-aid with his 200 attack points, but it would do for now until you could get a strategy together.  
  
“And then! Thunder Nyan Nyan, attack Kaiba-_san’_s Life Points directly!” The catgirl chirped her pleasure, clacking the drumsticks together and then down on the drum cymbal, coursing electricity across the field to your opponent.  
  
Until now a veritable statue, this drew a reaction from Kaiba, although a milder one than you were expecting. He raised an arm languidly, the set card revealing itself to be a trap. “I activate Counter Gate!” Finally some gusto entered his voice as the lightning hit an invisible wall before him, exploding fantastically inches from his face and ruffling his hair. “If I am attacked directly, I can negate the attack and draw one card – if the card is a monster, then I can normal summon it to the field.”  
  
He flashed the card he drew briefly before dots, then streaks, of misty color smeared across the air before him, curling and winding about his side of the field, serpentine. “I summon Mirage Dragon to the field!” The dragon swirled into and out of sight, its claws and the plates of its armor clacking into focus separate from its ghastly head.  
  
You bit down your disappointment, once again flashing a look to your hand. You had begun to get quite dizzy, and the semi-corporealness of the dragon did not help any. Once you forced yourself to focus, you set a card and ended your turn.  
  
Here again, Kaiba had that strange, contemplative look on his face, regarding you from his place across the field for a moment before announcing his turn and drawing his card. Whatever it was pleased him, and the thoughtful look was quickly replaced with a familiar smirk. A shiver rippled up your spine as he gave a chortle, and you heard echoes of his domineering laugh hammer at your ear drums, struggling to control your breath.  
  
The smirk still ghosted across his face as he gestured, flaring the coat about him once more. “From my hand, I play the magic card Melody of Awakening Dragon!”  
  
A phantasm of Lord of D appeared on the field, hefting an audacious twin-necked guitar. The incorporeal monster strummed a few chords before launching into a riff, and Kaiba announced over the sound, “I discard one card from my hand to bring 2 dragons with 3000 attack and 2500 defense to my hand in its place.” The last strains of the melody lingered in the air as Kaiba called his next move: “Then, I summon Kaibaman from my hand!”  
  
In any other situation, the series of moves would be amusing – clever, certainly, and just nearing on ridiculous. But when the monster digitized to life before your eyes, a mirror image of the man who played him and with a triumphal, heroic smirk on its face to match, you could only think that this was a nightmare. The familiar black dots began to cloud your vision and a lump rose in your throat. You tried to comfort yourself – with Jowgen on the field, even if he had the dragons, he couldn’t use Kaibaman’s ability unless –  
  
“Mirage Dragon, attack Jowgen the Spiritualist!”  
  
The clinking of the great dragons plates sounded in the air, tinkling like bells, as its open maw appeared before Jowgen and clamped down viciously on its body, tearing and rolling in an alligator-like motion.  
  
Tears sprung to your eyes immediately, and you braced out of instinct for the shearing pain that would surely be burning through your chest at any moment. However, you watched as your life points simply dropped, the same water-rippling sensation curling around your arm as they did so.  
  
[3900/2600]  
  
Just as before, you were left breathless at the feeling, the shock of it more disarming than the realization that it felt nothing like before. This time, though, you recovered much more quickly.  
  
“Then, I activate Kaibaman’s effect –   
  
  
“Not so fast! I activate my trap card, Mind Crush!” You fumbled with the switch for the trap, breathing a sigh of relief when the massive card covered your vision of the field, if only for a moment. “I call out the name of a card, and if you have that card in your hand, Kaiba-_san_, you must discard any instances of it to the graveyard. And,” you gulped down the lump in your throat, continuing more confidently than before, “I have a hunch you might have a Blue Eyes White Dragon in your hand.”  
  
Kaiba made a _tsk_ing sound and fed the two cards to his duel disk’s graveyard, but otherwise seemed unaffected as he ended his turn. Faintly, through the waves of blood rushing in your ears and the heartbeat solidly in your throat, you heard a whooping sound from the stands – though, turning, you could not determine exactly who it had come from as you found Mokuba, Richard and Shigeru wearing similar looks of enthusiastic pride.  
  
Richard, who was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, flashed you a thumbs up, and you allowed the spark in his eyes to bolster you, smiling softly and closing your eyes for a brief moment to catch your breath. You hadn’t realized how much the excitement was draining you until you let out a sigh and felt a fraction of weight lift from the crushing sensation deep in your chest. It hadn’t been much, but you’d managed to clear out two-thirds of his best monsters, and fairly early in the game.  
  
“I draw,” you announced, watching from the corner of your eye as another sneering green coin appeared on your Shard of Greed. “And now, with two Greed tokens, I activate Shard of Greed’s effect, and draw two further cards from my deck to my hand.” The pinpricks in your fingertips were beginning to subside, and the cards felt cool, although heavy, when you drew them. “Then I summon Theban Nightmare to the field.”  
  
The monster spilled onto the field in a wave of white-blue energy, cold and breezy against your skin, airy moans coming from the hundreds of faces that littered its extremities; it flashed a mouthful of teeth in a grin as it crawled upright, solidifying.  
  
“Thunder Nyan Nyan, attack Kaiba-_san_’s Mirage Dragon; and Theban Nightmare, attack Kaibaman!” Your monsters made short work of his, a burst of incredible light radiating across the field as Kaiba’s monsters disintegrated into the night.  
  
[2300/2600]  
  
You set two cards with hands that still trembled, and ended your turn by jerking your chin up in a show of confidence.  
  
“_Ore no taan_.” Kaiba’s voice took on a familiar drawl, and you steadied yourself. “I play Pot of Greed to draw two cards. Then, I summon Lord of Dragon – Controller of Dragons!”  
  
The monster that appeared then was identical to the illusion from before – a familiar Lord of D, but carrying the ostentatious twin-headed guitar. You frowned, unfamiliar with the card’s effect, but felt a cool pit form in your stomach.  
  
“With his effect, I can discard one spell or trap card to add Dragon Revival Rhapsody to my hand,” Kaiba explained as he flashed what vaguely registered as his Crush Card virus to you before feeding it into the graveyard slot and slipping the granted card from his deck with two fingers.  
  
The pit in your stomach emptied entirely, the coolness spreading to your thighs and weakening your knees somewhat. You hadn’t seen either of these cards before, but from the name you could guess. You ground your teeth in frustration as the lump returned to your throat; you had just been rid of them!  
  
“If I have a Spellcaster on the field – which Lord of Dragon is,” Kaiba explained, oblivious to the slump that had overtaken your posture, “then I can bring up to 2 dragons in my graveyard back to the field as Special Summons. Rise, Blue Eyes White – “  
  
“No!” you snapped, stamping your foot in a motion that was frustratingly childlike, and clenching your fists and pounding your thigh in a motion that was decidedly not. “No! I activate one of my trap cards, Horn of Heaven! By sacrificing my Theban Nightmare, your Special Summon is negated and those monsters are destroyed!”  
  
Although the move was a considerable victory, you took no pleasure at seeing the vortex of energy being halted, and the screeching dragons being sent once again to their grave. Instead, you felt prematurely exhausted, drained of all energy – this was a mistake, you decided. You couldn’t do this. You were so tired, _so very tired_, and going through the motions tugged at your chest with every turn that passed. You were tired of the dragons, of the back and forth, of the _fucking god cards_, you were just…tired.  
  
Kaiba had remained silent, watching you from across the field as his combo failed once more, that strange look crossing his face once more. He crossed his arms again and ended his turn.  
  
You drew without a word, forcing yourself to breathe. If you could finish it soon, so much the better- you hadn’t forgotten your rage at his decisions, and even through your fatigue you pressed on. No matter what you felt, you couldn’t let him keep the god cards in the game. You rubbed a hand against your cheek, and huffed a small sigh against the back of your hand to bring your focus back to the game; it wouldn’t do to lose heart now, you reminded yourself.  
  
“I sacrifice Thunder Nyan Nyan to summon Lesser Fiend to the field,” you said, as evenly as you could, watching almost detachedly as the muscular wolf-headed humanoid stretched and flexed its four arms. “Lesser Fiend attacks Lord of D – and with Lesser Fiend’s effect, Lord of D is now banished from play.”  
  
[1400/2600]

* * *

_You hefted your weekend bag higher onto your shoulder, ignoring the shake in your hands. You were probably just dehydrated, that was all; you had a cocktail in the airport lounge before boarding the plane home, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had some water. You would simply grab a glass when you got settled.  
  
__The door to your parents’ house was unlocked; they had been expecting you, and they had mentioned they weren’t sure if you still had your old keys. Though you assured them you did, they still insisted on leaving the front door unlocked for you when you arrived. They had wanted to pick you up from the airport, having not seen you since the winter holiday, but as the time drew nearer and they could not take the time off of work, all parties agreed that it would simply be easier if you called a cab to the house.  
  
__Besides, you told them jokingly, it would give you the time to nap before the onslaught. They had laughed politely, but the tense silence afterward settled until the phone call ended.  
  
__Letting yourself in, you blessedly peeled off your shoes at the door, reveling in the freedom, and dumped your bag onto the couch, making a beeline for the kitchen. You gulped down several glasses of tap water before, as an afterthought, rifling through the cupboards for the selection of shooters that your mother used for baking. Cracking on, you chased your water with the shot of liquor before meandering through the halls to your old bedroom, which, as promised, had been maintained as you left it.  
  
__Blackness enveloped you as sleep descended, and you woke what must have been several hours later from what was apparently a fitful nap. Dragging yourself upright, you vaguely noticed the murmurs from the dining area, and made your way in that direction.  
  
__As you drew closer, the words became clearer – and you stopped just outside the doorway, pressing your back against the wall once you realized your parents were talking about you.  
  
__“ – It’s a shame, is all, she had so much going for her. I’ve spoken with Dr. Lucas, and it seems she hasn’t been pursuing any of the courses that she got letters of recommendation for in high school – not even French! She loved French! And that Dr. Tucker said he couldn’t recommend tennis anymore, with her heart – “ your mother had been saying, her tone deep and urgent.  
  
__Your father _hmm_ed that he was listening, and asked, “I hope you aren’t planning on saying any of this to her?”  
  
__“No of course not, but I’m just _saying_, it’s incredible how much different her path in life seems to be – “  
  
__“Because I think she’s suffered enough that she doesn’t need to be reminded of it,” your father continued firmly. “And she certainly doesn’t need to think that we’re disappointed in her.”  
  
__This drew your mother short, and though you still faced away from them, you could almost see her chewing on her lip, eyes narrowing as she considered her husband. “Well aren’t we?” she said finally. “Yes, I know that she suffered a horrible injury in Japan, but that was _years_ ago, and she’s an adult now – and I’ve heard it from Tucker and Lucas that she isn’t participating in their sessions. It’s almost like she doesn’t want to go anywhere.”  
  
__A sigh escaped your lips silently, and you pressed the ball of your hand against the oncoming stress headache in one eye before you forced a false smile to split your lips and announced yourself, pushing through the doorway._

* * *

Though you had taken a fair chunk of his life points with the attack, Kaiba remained unphased. He still had that odd look of consideration on his face, his eyes narrowing in much the way you had seen your mother’s do before she pounced; but whatever it was he was thinking, he didn’t show it. As you set a card and ended your turn, there was another cheer form the stands, but you ignored it, watching vacantly as Kaiba drew his next card.  
  
“I’ll end it here,” he boomed, his voice carrying through the empty stadium, pressing the night even closer. “I play the magic card Cards of Consonance – with this, I can discard one Dragon Tuner monster from my hand to draw two cards.” He flashed the card to face you; “The card I’m discarding is White Stone of Legend, which, when sent to the graveyard, brings one Blue Eyes White Dragon from my deck to my hand.  
  
“I special summon Blue Eyes Alternate Dragon from my hand by revealing my Blue Eyes White Dragon – “ unnecessarily, he flashed the card to you again, and you felt your weight sag. “Then, I play Graceful Charity to draw three cards from my deck, and discard two cards from my hand. Finally, I play Beacon of White.”  
  
You heard the words, though they were muffled and distant, feeling the weight of everything press down on you, weighting you down, choking you.  
  
“When three or more Blue Eyes monsters are in my graveyard, I can special summon one to the field. My other monsters cannot attack, however my Beacon of White monster can attack for every Blue Eyes in my graveyard.”  
  
You lifted your head as the wind swirled around you, kicking great clouds of dust up as the snarling dragons were brought to the field. The Blue Eyes White Dragon screeched triumphantly at you, its body gleaming a brighter white against the dark backdrop of evening with the equipped card. Its black, sharklike eyes met yours, and a tear slipped unbidden from your eye and you caught your knees before they gave out.  
  
Time slowed in a fog around you, and simultaneously everything rushed to the forefront of your sinuses. Everything – from Battle City, to university, to your time at Third Star Games and this ill-thought game idea – pushed into your chest, clamoring for appeal. Absently, you felt cold sweat sliding down your back, and you wondered what ever could have made you agree to this stupid, harebrained –  
  
You jerked at hearing a chorus shout your name. You glanced into the stands, and Richard, face pinched and white, held his phone aloft, and you could just make out movement on the screen, the blurry shapes of Jennifer’s beautiful face and Justin’s thick mop of hair. Mokuba and Shigeru stood beside him, leaning forward in their excitement, their eyes shining a plea for you to stand, not to give up.  
  
But from their body language, it was clear that none of them had called out to you. In disbelief, you dragged your eyes to your opponent, who regarded you coolly with gleaming blue eyes, crackling with an emotion like rolling thunder that matched the boom in his voice when he spoke to you.  
  
“Are you not a duelist?” he called, the curious expression he had had since the start of the duel twisting his face before you realized what it was; he was gauging you, feeling out where you were. It would be ridiculous to say that he was holding back for you, especially considering the progress of the duel, but in that instant it hit you that he had been watching you with something akin to respect.  
  
It wasn’t disdain, it certainly wasn’t concern – it was expectation.

“A true duelist would never let their past control them,” he continued, his voice filling the space in the arena and the space in your chest. He clenched a fist in front of himself tightly, and ground his teeth as he spoke.“They would stand, they would fight! With everything that they had – to a future as bright as they can make it! Not wallow in the distant imagination of something that can’t hurt them anymore.”  
  
He paused, propped a hand on his hip. “I asked you if you could handle this, and you led me to believe that you could. But since you won’t make the decision for yourself, I will make it for you with this next attack. Blue Eyes White Dragon, _Horobi no – _“  
  
“I activate the trap card Dust Tornado!” You ground your teeth so hard a headache immediately blossomed, but you reveled in the sight of the shrieking white dragon being swept away by a furious cyclone, the hot white light that emanated from its scales dimming as the dragon shattered into the air. “If your equip card Beacon of White is destroyed, then so too is your Blue Eyes – and as you said yourself, your other monsters cannot attack, so my Lesser Fiend is spared for one more turn.”  
  
“And what can you do in one turn?” You could have imagined it, but as his dragon was destroyed, you could have sworn that the softest of smirks ghosted across Kaiba’s lips as he called out the end of his turn. “I still have Blue Eyes Alternate Dragon,” he reminded you, the barest taunt. “Are you saying that you’ll still fight, _zako_?”  
  
Your head spun. You wanted to vomit. Between the vicious back and forth and the ring in the air from his deep voice, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the world to stop spinning.  
  
Would you still fight?  
  
Breath entered in slowly, deliberately through your nostrils, and you allowed yourself a beat, two, three, simply focusing on the sensation of cool breath in, warm breath out. Your body tingled with sensation, simultaneously weightless from the numb iciness that had built and spread out from your chest.  
  
_Could_ you still fight?  
  
In.  
  
Out.  
  
You remembered different variations of this same conversation over the last fifteen years – your mother, your professors and advisors, Drs. Lucas and Tucker; the insistence that you fight, the declarations of your ability, the _expectation_, the weight of their unspoken disappointment when they realized that you _wouldn’t_ be fighting.  
  
In.  
  
Out.  
  
Your eyes snapped open in a flash, and you straightened, your decision made.  
  
You _could_ fight.  
  
You would.  
  
“_Watashi no taan_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOOOOOOOO. Thanks so much for everyone's patience, I know that hiatus must have seemed a little alarming, considering the timing. Especially for those who aren't following me on Tumblr. Sorry about that, guys! Stress is a hell of a drug.
> 
> BUT. Yo, this duel is hella worth it. I'm so proud of how the duel sequencing ended up, and I'm so proud of RC because she really comes into her own as a badass. I'm not saying prepare for the next chapter with some kleenex, but I will say that I got choked up a little bit, so. Take that as you will.
> 
> THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU as always to everyone who left a kudos: Mirizore, DistractedDisturber, cosmicArtist, LoveLettersToFandoms, xxFullmoonsanxx, BidetPower, and guests! And of course everyone who chatted with me in the comments and on Tumblr: FUTUREanon, haise_leonheart, mia826, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, Scarletbelle87, Meghan Amell (MorgannePhaedras), sakuchwan, Dat one lesbian on Ao3 and harata-raven, rhaelenaitoh, dabi-haze and all of my lovely anonymice on Tumblr.


	18. Dig Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [_We must find a way. Face the firing squad; against all the odds, you will find a way. ...Dig down, and find faith._ ](www.youtube.com%20%E2%80%BA%20watch%20%E2%80%BA%20v=b4ozdiGys5g)

“What’s going on?”  
  
“Move, I can’t see!”  
  
“Justin, there is more than enough room; if you shove me one more time - !”  
  
“Quiet!” Richard barked, tilting his phone back to face him. He had been streaming the match via Skype to Jennifer, who had then called Justin over to her apartment to watch as well, and for the majority of the match they had watched in suspense. When Richard had turned the phone to answer a question or otherwise provide clarity, or to make a comment of his own, he had seen that they were, truly, gripping the edge of their seats in anticipation.  
  
They silenced immediately – though they were used to his fluctuations in moods, he had been significantly less prone to outbursts since beginning therapy, coming back down to the level cool he liked to present. But they weren’t the only ones who were tense, and their bickering was drawing attention away from what was important.  
  
“Dick, what’s happening?”  
  
He narrowed his eyes. The question was difficult to answer, for a number of reasons. Predominantly, he still didn’t speak Japanese all that well. He had picked up a few phrases, but by and large he simply relied on social cues in his surroundings and the people with him for direction.  
  
But there was more nuance to a duel – a real duel – than he had expected, and though he knew that there were high tensions clashing on the field, he couldn’t read the mood.  
  
There had been a pause in the action that had been concerning, and his heart gripped at the sight of his friend beginning to fall to her knees again, a defeat before defeat. He had heard Mokuba and Shigeru next to him shift, then stand, racing to call out to her – and his body moved unbidden to do the same – but Kaiba beat them all to the punch. And as his voice carried across the field, echoing in the stands, time around the two duelists seemed to slow.  
  
Richard had never quite seen anything like it, and he was uncertain he had ever felt anything like it – what he did know, though, was that looking upon the scene in the field below felt…intrusive. As though he had barged in on a very intimate moment.  
  
Seconds ticked by on his watch, and it seemed as though everyone in the stands was holding their breath as the electricity crackled from Kaiba’s eyes into his friend’s body.  
  
Then, slowly, she straightened, lifted a shaking hand to her deck, and drew.  
  
And the world continued to hold its collective breath for her.  
  
If he squinted, Richard could see that her eyes were closed and her brow drawn down; he could see the steady rise and fall of her chest, and he could see to minute tension moving to and from different areas of her body. He could not see what was going on his her head, but he thought he could guess.  
  
“YOU’VE GOT HIM, KILLER!”  
  
Justin’s cry caused Richard to start, his voice echoing a tinny squawk from the phone’s speaker. The sound filtered down to the field, and he saw her eyes snap open, a new fire alighted as she leveled her gaze firmly to her opponent; Kaiba smirked in response, and very subtly his posture shifted taller, more proud.  
  
Richard’s fingers rose to his throat and he tugged on the knot of his tie, loosening until it slipped from his collar. Keeping his gaze fixed on his friend, he lifted the tie above his head, waving it like the banner of a warrior on the field, and he called out her name; distantly he heard Justin join, then Jenn.  
  
Her expression didn’t change, but her shoulders set, and she lifted her chin.  
  
Richard didn’t know much about dueling, not truly; he knew the rules and the basic concepts, but the energy, the involvement, the emotion? Foreign concepts to him.  
  
But he did know that now was the start of a brand new duel.

* * *

Thoughts raced through your head at such a speed that you couldn’t separate one from the next. You could only identify the crushing pressure of the consequences of your decision – it wasn’t so much insecurity, or the anxiety that came with making the wrong choice. The choice was yours, and you had made it, but even so, once you drew the card from your deck you had frozen, bogged down and heavy from the sheer _everything_ness of it all.  
  
One by one, you heard the cries of your friends, and it was as though a switch had been flipped, the lights turned on in a building once thought abandoned. You opened your eyes and raised your head, and the burning lights of the stadium blinded you for a brief moment.  
  
But when your vision cleared, you felt that you could breathe.  
  
The corner of your mouth lifted, not quite a smirk, but a ghost. “From my hand, I play the magic card Monster Recovery,” you announced, flashing the card. “This card allows me to recall one monster from my field, and then shuffle it as well as my hand back into my deck, then to redraw the same amount.”  
  
It was a gamble. That card always was, and you hid the slight _tsk_ sound you made when it did not pay off. Taking quick stock of your hand, you reassessed. It didn’t fully pay off, rather – if you could just get one more piece…  
  
“Then,” you continued, “I’ll play Graceful Charity to draw three cards, then discard two.”  
  
Jackpot. You fed two cards to the Graveyard, then flashed the third.  
  
The ghost became a smirk. “I play the magic card Polymerization to combine my Marie the Fallen One and my Forgiving Maiden, and I summon St. Joan to the field!”  
  
An eruption of golden white lilies bloomed across the field, and the lady knight descended from the sky serenely, her gauntlets clasped tightly over her greatsword. She raised her head, and gazed sternly at the shimmering white dragon opposite her.  
  
“Then, I’ll activate my trap card – Blast With Chain. This becomes an equipment card which adds on 500 attack points to St. Joan – bringing her to 3300, above your dragon. Since she is a fusion monster, I can’t attack with her this turn. But Kaiba-_san_,” you added, “I’m coming for you next turn. _Taan endo_.”  
  
“_Ore no taan,_” he responded, his expression unchanged through the exchange; you were by now convinced that the lilt to his lips was not in your imagination, his eyes crackling and alive. He drew without looking at the card, flinging an arm out to his dragon, which let rip an incredible shriek. “I activate the effect of Blue Eyes Alternative Dragon – once per turn, I can target one monster my opponent controls and destroy it, clearing the field for attack. Blue Eyes – “  
  
“Is destroyed, thanks to the effect of Blast With Chain!” You tried not to wince when St. Joan vaporized into shards of light, dissipating into the night air – her final action sent the loaded end of the chain across the field to wrap around the dragon’s long white neck. A ticking sounded, followed by the bright explosion which sent Kaiba’s Blue Eyes Alternative Dragon to the Graveyard. “When Blast With Chain is destroyed, I can choose one of my opponent’s monsters to destroy as well! It looks like we are at a stalemate, Kaiba-_san_!”  
  
The loss of St. Joan stung, but if it meant one less dragon on his field, you would take it. You didn’t have any cards in your hand that you could summon, but if you could just draw one…  
  
Still unflappable, the grin on Kaiba’s face widened. It was almost unsettling how calm he was at the loss of his dragon, and that feeling intensified when he showed you his monster card. “Then I will summon Maiden With Eyes of Blue to the field, and end my turn.”  
  
A delicate refrain chimed through the air, circling around you as the monster appeared on the field. Her long silver hair floated in a halo about her form before settling at her sides, and she fixed shocking blue eyes on you, a soft smile on her face. Though the overall effect was one of calm, you felt chilled by her presence, something off about her that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.  
  
Her zero attack points didn’t sit quite right, nor did her attack position.  
  
It was a setup, clearly, but you didn’t have time to puzzle through it. You couldn’t allow yourself to get stuck; you had to move forward. Announcing your turn and drawing, you announced, “Since Marie the Fallen One is in my graveyard from the fusion summon, I gain 200 life points.”  
  
[2300 / 2800]  
  
“From my hand, I play the magic card Card of Demise. I draw until my hand is at five cards, and by my fifth Standby Phase I must discard all cards in my hand.”  
  
“That’s a desperate move, _zako_,” Kaiba called, crossing his arms across his chest. His coat fluttered about his legs as a breeze stirred the air in the stadium. “Is my Maiden so frightening?”  
  
You ignored the jibe, not wanting to rise to his bait, simply filling your hand. The truth was that, yes, she was frightening, and you were still unable to discern why; obviously there was the unknown of her monster effect, and her open position on the field which could obliterate Kaiba’s life points, but there was more to it than that, and you simply could not break focus to address it.  
  
Coolly, you flashed a monster card. “I summon Nuvia the Wicked to the field.”  
  
The serpentine, mask-like creature appeared crawling through a dense cloud of sickly purple smoke, then promptly shattered into the sheen of the stadium lights. Kaiba did not mask his snort of incredulity. “Did you forget that Nuvia is destroyed if it is normal summoned?”  
  
You kept your face blank, canting your head. “Thank you for the narration, Kaiba_-san_ – I’ll be sure to apologize to her the next time I see her,” you bit out, unable to keep the sarcasm from your tone. “In the meantime, her presence in my Graveyard means that I have three Fiend type cards in my Graveyard. I banish these cards from play to summon Dark Necrofear to the field.”  
  
The rush of darkness that swirled about your feet felt alarmingly cool, and almost sucked the breath from your lungs as the great fiend monster rose up from the ground, the broken doll in her arms rattling off a ghastly, shrieking laugh. The Maiden With Eyes of Blue shifted her attention to your monster, offering a placid smile to her foe – you paid no mind to the tugging in your gut at the expression on her face, extending an arm out to direct your attack.  
  
“Dark Necrofear! Attack Kaiba’s Maiden With Eyes of Blue!”  
  
The broken doll let out another horrible laugh, and the great fiend launched herself forward at the pale, smiling girl.  
  
Unmoved, Kaiba’s eyes narrowed and the smirk lit up his face. “Wrong. Maiden With Eyes of Blue’s effect activates – when she is targeted for an attack, the attack is negated. Then, from either my hand, deck, or Graveyard, I can summon a Blue Eyes White Dragon. Rise, Blue Eyes! We aren’t done with our foes yet!”  
  
“Oh, _goddammit_! You’ve got to be shitting me!” You could not control the snarl that ripped from your throat in English, gripping your hands into fists so tight you felt the bite of nails on your palms. Tears stung the corners of your eyes in your frustration. Everywhere you turned, there seemed to be another _fucking_ dragon.  
  
In his amusement, Kaiba’s brows disappeared into the fringe of his hair. If he weren’t so taken aback, you were sure he would have laughed. “It’s still your turn, _zako_,” he crowed instead. “You’ve done well to hold me off this long, but you can’t have many more tricks up your sleeve. End your turn so that my dragon can put this matter to rest once and for all.”  
  
Your teeth grit, and you tasted the copper that flooded your mouth. Was he right? Was all that you had been doing thus far just holding him off? Brief moments of respite, but ultimately fooling yourself? Your fingers twitched, and you debated heavily your option of simply forfeiting. It…would it be the worst thing? Your battle to remove the God Cards would have been lost, but there were other options – you could enlist Jenn, or speak with Justin or even Mokuba or the rest of the KaibaCorp team to negotiate on your behalf.  
  
You had fought so hard…and it wasn’t quite a waste, you realized. No matter the outcome, no matter what further you had to do regarding the mobile game, you had fought so hard and you realized that your hands no longer shook as intensely, your vision did not cloud as dark, your breath came easier.  
  
Out of desperation, you glanced at the remaining cards in your hand, making quick, defeated calculations in your head – how many more turns could you last…? How much longer until the inevitable…?  
  
Your eye caught onto the print of a familiar card, and you frowned. You honestly could not remember putting the card into your deck. You rolled your lip in between your teeth; like many of your other moves this duel, it was desperate, bordering on reckless.  
  
But it was still your turn, and if Kaiba had filled his deck with so many cards to support his Blue Eyes, then there was still a chance.  
  
“I’m not quite done, Kaiba-_san_,” you called to him, tone significantly calmer after your outburst. For the first time in your dueling career, you found yourself wishing to the Heart of the Cards, hoping it had not yet forsaken you. “I play the magic card Exchange!” With a grin more confident than you felt, you added, “Let’s see what you have for me, Kaiba-_san_.”  
  
With a dubious cock of his brow, Kaiba began taking long strides to the center of the field, passing through the holograms of his Blue Eyes like through mist. Although to this point, you had been doing well at keeping yourself steady, you still began to hear the familiar hammer of your heart in your ears as you willed your legs to move, taking the first few steps as though through molasses.  
  
When you reached the center of the field, you found that Kaiba had waited there for you with an expectant expression. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up from his outstretched hand to his face, which was edging into impatient but otherwise blank. Distantly, you felt the heat of the arena lights begin to beat against your cheeks and back, and you noticed in spite of yourself the warm scent of Kaiba’s cologne as the summer breeze ruffled his coat once more – it was the closest you had ever stood to him, even during the meetings previous, even during your impromptu visit to his office months ago.  
  
Suddenly self-conscious, but wanting to present a confident mask, you flashed your hand to him and he plucked a card without looking, indifferent to his selection. He proffered the cards of his hand again, and you forced yourself to calm down, ignoring the drumbeat of your heart in your ears to look over the cards carefully, deliberately, before calmly selecting one card and spinning on your heel to walk back to your side of the field.  
  
The wheels in your head began to turn immediately as you worked through a quick battery of scenarios, and you held firm control over your facial expression, repressing a grin like the cat had gotten the cream.  
  
Feeling a good deal lighter, you spun back to face him, not missing the flourish Kaiba made when he did the same on the opposite end of the field. “I end my turn,” you announced primly.  
  
Your opponent announced his turn and drew his card. “No matter what you think you’ve gained, _zako_, it’s useless! Blue Eyes, attack her Dark Necrofear. _Horobi no_ Burst Stream!”  
  
The great white dragon hurled the crackling ball of energy across the field, and you murmured a quiet apology to Dark Necrofear before bracing your body for the impact; just as the previous time, you were surprised when the shockwave was not something you felt hot in your core, but more like ripples of water cascading up your arm and into your torso.  
  
Whatever further moves Kaiba made, if he made any at all, you missed. All your energy was focused on hear those few short words, buzzing anticipation. When he finally announced the end of his turn, you practically bounced forward.  
  
“I activate Dark Necrofear’s effect from the Graveyard! During the End Phase of the turn that it is defeated in battle, Dark Necrofear becomes an equip card for any monster my opponent controls,” you called, perhaps overloud, lost in the thrill of the thing. “And once it is equipped, control of that monster changes to me. I don’t think I have to say that I am choosing your Blue Eyes White Dragon,” you continued over the sound of wingbeats as the dragon moved over to your side of the field.  
  
Although Kaiba’s face betrayed the barest irritation at his prized monster bearing down on him, he maintained the same irritatingly self-assured façade he always did. He must have guessed the sequence of your next turn, or at least part of it, because he taunted you with a simple, “And how long do you think that will last?”  
  
You urged a steeliness to enter your gaze, and you locked eyes with him. “I won’t need long Kaiba-_san_,” you assured him. “_Watashi no taan_.”  
  
Drawing what you hoped was going to be your final card, you smiled in thanks that your deck still had some support to give you. “I summon Doomcaliber Knight in attack mode – and send him to immediately attack your Maiden With Eyes of Blue!”  
  
Subtly at first, then louder, more fervent, the sound of rapid hoofbeats clopped through the air of the stadium as the knight materialized – once the hooves hit the ground, the knight was off like a shot, its lance bearing down toward the pale, girl-like monster.  
  
Kaiba scoffed loudly, spreading his arms wide. “Have you forgotten, _zako_? An attack at Maiden With Eyes of Blue is negated, and I summon a Blue Eyes from my Graveyard. Arise, Blue Eyes!”  
  
“Oh, is that so?”  
  
As the turns had passed, there had been that niggling feeling as those vibrant blue eyes bore into you, something that you could not quite place about the Maiden With Eyes of Blue, but when you neared Kaiba’s side of the field for the Exchange, you had shot a glance her way and it had hit you in a tangle that you, if you were honest with yourself, were still working through:  
  
You saw yourself in that pale face. You as you had been, before it all had begun. She was you as you could have been, if it had not all come crashing down. She was the you that had never had the chance to be.  
  
You hated her for that, knowing full well that this monster card had never done anything to you, knowing the absurdity of how intensely resentful you felt. But more than looking upon her and feeling bitterness at the life that had been taken from you, and the unease at the force of your self-reflection, you felt an old frustration bubble up that was more powerful than any anger you felt at Kaiba, at Duel Monsters, at your mother, at the long string of ex-partners that had failed to fill the void that had ached in the cave of your chest.  
  
You felt the smoldering frustration at yourself for never having overcome it. Even despite your handicap, despite the wasted years, you had achieved so much – and never once acknowledged yourself for it.  
  
Looking across the field as your Doomcaliber Knight stormed the distance, you locked gazes with those intense blue eyes set in the calm lines of that placid face; and under your breath, you felt your lips move to mouth an apology to yourself for everything that had happened, a silent promise to be stronger for your future self.  
  
Though she was only a hologram, the smile she gave in response felt real.  
  
Pressing a button on the duel disk, you smiled softly back at her, and then at Kaiba. “Too bad, Kaiba-_san_. But Doomcaliber Knight’s effect activates when an opponent’s monster tries to activate an effect – if that happens, I can sacrifice Doomcaliber Knight to negate your monster’s effect, and destroy your monster.”  
  
Just shy of the speartip hitting Maiden With Blue Eyes, both monsters digitized gently into the darkness, specks of light refracted in the stadium lighting. Despite the heat of the summer night, a shiver wracked your body, and you hesitated over calling out the final move.  
  
This was it.  
  
No where to go but forward.  
  
“Blue Eyes White Dragon!” you cried into the night, your voice cracking over the words. A beat to collect yourself, a small gulp to quell the lump that had built in your throat, then; “Attack Kaiba-san’s life points directly! _Horobi no _Burst Stream!”  
  
The shaking in your body intensified as the dragon built up the energy in its great open maw, and the familiar blackness began to creep across the borders of your vision. You felt pinpricks of the electricity spark up and down your limbs, then the accompanying numbness creep in like ice.  
  
Between the dots in your vision and the hammering of your heart in your ears and in the cavity of your chest, you could not see the final blow, could not hear anything over the low whistle that hummed in your ears. Very distantly, you acknowledged movement from the corner of your eye, flashes of color and light that you could not quite register as coming from your friends in the stands.  
  
You had expected peace to feel warm, had expected victory to feel like sunshine that burst from your chest, but all you could feel through the adrenaline that coursed through your veins was cool, a cool spreading from your chest then your throat then to weigh your limbs down heavily.  
  
You did not expect victory to feel like being pulled underwater, but still you felt your breath of relief escaping your chest in a huff as your knees buckled underneath you. You supposed you could not fault your body – reflecting back with a new clarity, you realized the amount of strain your body had been put under all this time. But you had hoped that you could have held it together, not allowed your body to give out.  
  
At least, not here.  
  
Not like this.  
  
Resigned to the familiarity of falling, you tilted some of your weight forward, hoping at the most to catch your knees against the grass in the stadium. Allowing yourself a single congratulatory sigh, you decided you had earned the luxury of fluttering your eyelids closed.  
  
Instead of the expected impact of the ground, however, you felt a muffled pressure across your chest, then felt the weight of your body lighten unexpectedly, lifted.  
  
Your arm came up, exploratory, and grasped onto the arm that had caught you; your eyes peeled opened, sluggish in your surprise, and you lifted your chin. The stadium lights lit his profile, a halo of harsh light, and you flinched somewhat at the brightness of it all, not entirely registering where you were.  
  
“Get up.” Kaiba’s voice was less harsh than you expected, carried little of the disdain you were used to hearing from him. The admonishment was clear, though, and you focused on his face, compelled to obey the directive. Digging your fingers into the black cloth on his forearm, you slowly straightened, braced by his steadiness. “Haven’t you been on your knees enough?”  
  
When you rose, fully erect, you felt the delicate brush of his fingertips against your elbow before you both released your holds. You paused, considering, before finally saying, “Yes. I have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? Heightened emotions and bonds that can’t be put into words? In my slowburn? It’s more likely than you think. I know there's been a lot of speculation (and hopes) for the outcome of the duel, and I'm hoping I didn't disappoint. We’re finally starting to get into the burn part of the slowburn, and we’re one or two chapters away from the end of Act Two.
> 
> (Also, I threw in some Prideshipping hints, and I'm so so curious to see if anyone besides me catches them.)
> 
> I want to take a minute to make two quick announcements, both of which I’ve brought up briefly on Tumblr: the first is that for the month of July, this fic will be on mini-hiatus while I work on my Camp Nanowrimo project. It’s possible that I will still post the next chapter during the month, but only if I’m ahead of my goal for Camp Nano.
> 
> Second, a fic giveaway! Since we’re so so so close to 3000 hits, and we wouldn't have made it this far without the support from every single one of you, I wanted to celebrate that with all y’all! So just like the last fic giveaway, you can enter by leaving a comment here on AO3 or shooting me an ask on Tumblr. I will then randomly select the winner by an RNG, and announce them in the notes of the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you to all of the kudos left by DDruxy, LOVESENSATION, BuntheBun, gaynji, SetoKaibaFan, faesrin, and guests; and to all of the commenters haise_leonhart, mia826, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, sakuchwan, Dat one lesbian, BuntheBun, LOVESENSATION on Ao3 and dabi-haze, harata-raven and all of the lovely nonnies on Tumblr.  
  
Special shoutout to fortheloveofyugioh on Tumblr. She provided me with about half of Kaiba’s deck, so this duel would have been so much less awesome (and a solid 80% less BEWD-y) without her.


	19. The Afterlife of the Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[I'm a stitch away from making it, and a scar away from falling apart, apart. The blood cells pixelate, and the eyes dilate; kiss away all these thrills and kills on the mouths of all my friends. Could it last? I watch you work the room. Could it last?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYh3hxEE1sg) _

Your friends had streamed down from the bleachers and swarmed about you, drenching you in their excitement. Though the adrenaline had long since worn off and you were overcome by shaking and the sheer exhaustion of the thing, some of the feeling was beginning to flood back into your body, the barest trickle.  
  
Without looking up at him, you gave Kaiba’s forearm the briefest of squeezes, a reassurance that he could let you go, and immediately transferred into Richard’s arms as your friend crushed you to his chest in a bear hug. Burying your face into his neck, you allowed a few tears to break free, and you heard him vaguely murmuring how proud he was of you. You could hear squawking from his phone as Jennifer crowded the screen, crowing and glowing with pride. You spotted Justin in the background, talking on his phone, in turns gesturing animatedly and standing solemnly still.  
  
“He cried,” Jennifer reassured you. “Literally bawling like a baby. Hasn’t shut up in over an hour. You’re lucky, really – maybe it’ll die down by the time you guys get home.”  
  
“Hey!” he called, covering the mouthpiece of his phone. “Fat chance of that. You crushed it killer! You’re a beast, I can’t even begin to – yeah, I’m still here.” Abruptly chastened by whoever was on the other end of the phone, he turned back to the conversation he was having.  
  
Jennifer barked out a laugh, which you mimicked with a gentle huff.  
  
“Babe.”  
  
“Ah, right! Don’t let me hog you, I’m sure you guys have celebrating to do – we’ll see you when you get back!”  
  
You scarcely had the chance to wave goodbye over her enthusiasm, turning to Richard and steadying yourself on his shoulder for a moment before turning to face Mokuba and Shigeru. “Celebration?”  
  
A knowing grin splitting his face, Mokuba clapped you on the shoulder. “We wouldn’t want you to say that we’re sore losers!” he laughed brightly. “You rocked! And I bet you’ve got enough energy in you to power a city right now.”  
  
Now that equilibrium was starting to settle in your body once more, you couldn’t say for certain what you felt. The sheer rush to survive had you hanging on by a thread during the duel itself, but now that you were coming down from the Fight instinct you felt the high of victory running its undercurrent in your veins: your head felt clear, as though you had sprinted for miles, and there was no great weight on your chest as you breathed.  
  
You couldn’t say exactly what you felt, so you simply settled on a breathy, “Yeah,” and a smile.  
  
Mokuba clapped his hands together at this response. “Yeah! Shigeru, what time are we looking at? Nevermind, get us a table and a round somewhere close.” As Shigeru bowed his acknowledgement, flashing a smile your way, Mokuba turned to his brother, who had already buried himself into his phone. “_Nii-sama_, you’re coming with us?”  
  
It sounded less like an actual question, and more like Mokuba’s attempt at being stern, but regardless of the brothers’ internal dynamic, Kaiba did not even lift his gaze. “No. I have a meeting.”  
  
“Wha - ? No way, _nii-sama_, it’s late, save that for the morning, you gotta come out with us.” Again, Mokuba tried very hard to assert himself in his tone, but was again brushed off.  
  
Kaiba’s tone did not change, but he did have the grace to look up this time. “No. This is important, needs to be addressed right now.”  
  
If he felt contrition, he didn’t show it. Despite how bedraggled you were certain you looked, you flashed him a smirk. “Of course not. After all, you would hate for anyone to think you’re a sore loser.”  
  
His head canted and his blue eyes sparkled in the bright arena lighting as he considered you for a split second before his lips quirked in a mirror of yours. “Business doesn’t stop, foreigner. You’ll understand that I don’t have the time to consider what you think about me.”  
  
“Mm, of course not.” Your confidence rose with the second, enough so that you couldn’t stop yourself from adding, “Maybe a rain check.”  
  
With a scoff, he simply said, “We’ll see,” before sweeping away to an awaiting car, dialing a number on his phone as he peeled the old coat from his shoulders, tossing it into the backseat before sliding in and pressing a button on an earpiece, greeting whoever was on the other line in crisp English.  
  
Mokuba allowed you no time to be frustrated with his brother, shuffling everyone into a nearby car and rallying for Shigeru, who was speaking with a nearby restaurant through his earpiece. Mokuba didn’t really allow you much time to dwell on much of anything: the moment the car doors closed he had pulled out a bottle of champagne from a hidden cabinet and in the time you blinked you each had a tiny, delicate glass pressed into your hands and the dark-haired man was calling a toast.  
  
And from the moment his glass lowered, he was off like a shot, describing the night from start to finish from his perspective: he told you that he had watched the phone call between you and Kaiba, had heard the challenge for a duel, and he confided in you here that while he rooted for his brother, as always, that he had felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of being able to witness his brother duel seriously for the first time in so long.  
  
He continued on, hardly stopping for breath, even as he swept you in the side-entrance of what looked like a very exclusive bar and bustled you and Richard along a small, dark hallway into a private booth. Drinks already awaited you, as promised, and you felt liquor hit your lips for the second time in half an hour.  
  
“And I was almost surprised to see _nii-sama_ really go all out,” he was saying as Shigeru refilled his glass expertly before gesturing for yours.  
  
You waved him off, tapping the rim of your half-filled low ball. “I’m all right for now, thanks. What was so surprising about that? Kaiba-_san_ isn’t really known for his restraint.”  
  
“Not to mention the god cards.”  
  
“Those fucking cards!” you echoed, clinking your glass against Richard’s and taking a pull.  
  
Mokuba waved a hand, unconcerned at the interjection. “Nah, he didn’t care about the god cards. They were a limited release, only for select duelists at launch. We agreed during our own house testing that it wouldn’t be a good idea, it was just for publicity. Though I guess,” he added, his eyes sparkling in your direction, “that we maybe should have disclosed that to you, at least. My bad!”  
  
His guffaw came from the heart, and you only froze for a moment, his light-heartedness easing some of the horror you felt at the amount of information you now had to digest. “Wait, I – he – you - ?”  
  
Immediately, he jumped to your rescue. “Oh, no, no – they were never meant to be permanent. With everything that happened during Battle City, legal would have had my head for that – and I mean, I knew what had happened with you – “  
  
You snorted the liquor back into the glass. “_You what,_” you rasped, groping for your glass of water; Richard obliged, gently pushing it closer to you with a finger.  
  
Here, Shigeru stood, bowing slightly. “Please excuse me,” he said before rising. “During the incident when you and Grant-_san_ were here last – “  
  
“With the fucking train?”  
  
“With the train,” he confirmed, “I thought it prudent to alert Mokuba-_sama_ when he arrived at the hospital about where and when we had met previously. I knew of the possibility of these cards appearing in the game, and I would not in good conscience allow KaibaCorp to continue to cause such destruction.”  
  
Mokuba clapped Shigeru on the shoulder briefly before turning back to you. “And I knew what _nii-sama_ was going for with the game, so they had to make an appearance – but I also know how much he wants to put his younger years behind him, and how much he can’t resist a limited release. So I floated the idea to him that way so lessen the impact. I had no idea you would – how do you Americans say? – flip your lid so hard.”  
  
You busied your hands with your water glass while you processed the new information, searching for a response. All you could come up with, however, was a quiet, “So you _knew_?”  
  
Though the edges of Mokuba’s face were angular, his expression softened entirely, and he grinned so wide it threatened to split his face. In a show of entirely un-Japanese forwardness, he leaned across the table and gripped your arm in firm reassurance. “And look at how much ass you kicked.”  
  
When this prompted a laugh from you, he continued in greater cheer, “And honestly, even if _nii-sama_ knew the full consequences of that duel, I still think it would have been the same – even all that time ago, you had him on the ropes. I think if it hadn’t been for Obelisk, the duel would have ended much differently.”  
  
There was the familiar sensation of the air around you slowing, the sounds curling slowly inward toward your ears as though from very far away; you closed your jaw with a snap, and lifted eyes which had begun to water to meet stormy grey. “If it hadn’t been for Obelisk, I might have…?”  
  
It was an occurrence that had never truly occurred to you, and you had frankly never let it. So busy were you trying to bury your past in the ground where it lay, that you had never stopped to actually recall the progression of the duel itself. You would certainly never have dreamed…  
  
“So why was it only you that knew about what happened? Why didn’t you tell Seto-_san_?”  
  
Richard’s voice jerked you back to the present before you could wrap yourself in the familiar chill of the memories, and you snapped your gaze over to Shigeru, who glanced over to Mokuba for what seemed like approval.  
  
The younger Kaiba shrugged, swirling the liquor in his glass contemplatively. “I’m sure we’d have gotten around to it, but, well, one it didn’t feel like our place, really – but mostly he wasn’t around.” He took a pull from his glass before continuing; “With the train accident, we were both so busy. Shigeru and I dealt with legal and insurance, and I had interviews up to here – “ he gestured with one palm to his shoulder, “ – and _nii-sama_, well, I don’t even think he slept between all the repairs, and the investigation, and – “  
  
“Repairs?” You canted your head, taking another sip of your drink.  
  
“Oh, yeah.” Mokuba laughed again, throwing his head back in a bark. “Haven’t you noticed that the trains have been down? Not that you’ve had a chance, since we’ve had Takeshi driving you around. Not a single KaibaCorp train has run since then,” Mokuba explained. “_Nii-sama_ shut them all down, and we negotiated with our insurance to release a supplementary transit stimulus to every household in the city. He was so mad at the failure of the train with you guys on it, I think seven departments are on disciplinary action, and most of the oversight supervisors were released from their duties.”  
  
“Additionally,” Shigeru chimed in, and your head swiveled over to him, “Kaiba-_sama_ has been forgoing many of his other duties to provide personal aid to the repair team.”  
  
“_Nii-sama_ never did mind getting his hands dirty.”  
  
“If you want something done right…” Richard murmured. “Holy shit.”  
  
Your eyes unfocused on the grain of the wood table, and you felt yourself take another sip from your glass, almost mechanically. “Holy shit,” you parroted.

* * *

“She kicked your ass but good, didn’t she? Just like I said.”  
  
“Loath as I am to say it, you weren’t wrong. She…has a duelist’s soul. I – she fought well.”  
  
“Nah-ah-ah, you were about to say something else about how right I was, weren’t you? What was it?”  
  
“I’m hanging up now.”  
  
“Naaaahhh, you’re not. ‘Cause I’ve still got something that you want, don’t I?"  
  
“Carriger.”  
  
“Just get it off your chest. Tell me what you were gonna say, and we can move on to the good stuff.”  
  
“…”  
  
“I lose you, big guy?”  
  
“I…”  
  
“_Yeeess_?”  
  
“It’s…been a long time. Since I’ve had a duel like that. I’d…I’d almost forgotten what it felt like. The rush of a worthy opponent.”  
  
“…”  
  
“I’ll send down to my legal department to have a proposal drawn up, and have it sent to Harris first thing in the morning.”  
  
“Ahh, no, don’t – don’t do that, just send it to me. Jen doesn’t – she – “  
  
“You must be joking.”  
  
“It wasn’t the right time.”  
  
“Yes, the right time is much closer to when the sign is being replaced.”  
  
“No, I – look, it just – soon, all right?”  
  
“Don’t waste your false promises on me, Carriger, I don’t need them. You’ll have the proposal in your inbox within the next sixteen hours, and we’ll make arrangements from there. You can figure the rest out on your own.”  
  
“…Word, right, swell. Talk soon, there, big guy.”

* * *

Justin was never someone who was uncomfortable performing for a crowd. He had done so his entire life, from nannies and private tutors to college deans and, yes, even the occasional lover. What could he say? He was meant for the stage.  
  
Even still, he never truly relished his time in front of the board of directors. With every word that dripped from his mouth with varying levels of sincerity, he would cast his gaze out to rove over their bland, old, fat faces, all nondescript and largely indistinguishable from one another until his eyes finally came to rest on those unsettlingly cool eyes, watching him from the other end of the vintage Brazilian rosewood table like some primordial creature from the depths of a bottomless ocean.  
  
King Shit.  
  
Justin kept the mask on his face, the disaffected, stupid, boyish grin slanting his lips as he relayed the events of the launch trip: from the buildup with the surveys, to the demonstrations for the people of Domino, to the duel between Third Star’s Chief Marketing Officer and one Kaiba Seto, until finally he reached Kaiba Seto’s more-than-generous proposal. He slid copies to each seated member of the board, and the chairman caught his without breaking eye contact.  
  
“KaibaCorporation is a big name worldwide,” the chairman said, steepling his fingers. “I can think of perhaps one or two companies with more clout. You can’t tell me that one silly game was enough to leave such an impression?”  
  
Justin had heard some variation of this conversation for the last several months, while the Duel Monsters game was being developed. He would have had to be unconscious to miss the subtext: _How have you not been laughed out of the room yet, boy?  
  
_“See for yourself,” he responded with a casual wave of his hand, propping one ankle on the opposite knee and giving his foot a jiggle, a calculated display of insouciance. “Between the work the artists and developers did, the contracts that Jennifer Harris was able to draft from all corners, the budget that Richard Grant drew up, we’ve ticked all of the boxes. Kaiba was impressed.”  
  
Thick black brows furrowed as the chairman finally flicked through the initial pages. “And that woman?”  
  
No matter how many times he had rehearsed this – in front of the mirror in his closet as he put on his monkey suit, in line to get his coffee, in traffic, on the elevator – Justin could not mask the tick in his jaw. It had taken him the greater part of a week to convince the board to allow him to promote his Chief Marketing Officer, but even then they had never once conceded to using her name.  
  
He forced himself to waggle his eyebrows, leaning forward, propping his elbows on the sleek conference table. “Kaiba’s practically eating out of her hand. You should have seen the way he looked at her during that duel.”  
  
“Yes, I’d like to. Did you get the video footage we asked for?”  
  
To hide his frustration, Justin leaned back, bursting into a hearty chortle. “What, the man’s words aren’t enough?” He raised his hands in a gesture of submission before any of the seated members could raise their concerns, but not before the chairman cocked his head. “I just need to get Jennifer Harris to send me her recording of the stream. She’s at the airport today to pick them up.”  
  
“Get that to me by the end of the day – once I have that footage, you’ll have your answer.” The chairman glanced around the room, his air of haughty disinterest coloring his sharp, “Dismissed.”  
  
The members of the board filed out one after the other, a blur of impeccably tailored but out of date triple-breasted suits, each grumbling about some thing or another to his twin across the table. Justin could only catch bits and pieces of it, but it was enough that it took every ounce of his willpower to keep the slick smile on his face and to keep his eyes unwaveringly locked with the chairman’s.  
  
Neither man moved until the room had cleared, and Justin spread his arms and his grin wide. The chairman sighed, rising from his seat and making his way over.  
  
“I will give you one thing, Justin,” he said, his tone lofty enough to hide the disdain. “I certainly never expected the loan to have such a return. And so quickly.”  
  
“Oh, come on, gimme a little bit of credit here. You expected this to fail much sooner, but here we are with an offer like this?” Justin scoffed, rising from his own seat to face the chairman. “It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, to rub shoulders with KaibaCorp like this.”  
  
One bushy brow rose in agreement at the assertion as the chairman began to fret over Justin’s appearance, his hands moving to tighten the tie almost imperceptibly and tugging the lapels of his jacket straight with a brisk movement. “That’s certainly true. For all that you think your tongue is made of silver, you were never good with my money.”  
  
Justin swatted the hands away from him, instinctively raising a finger up to the knot of his tie to loosen it. “I never brought us to ruin, dad,” he said, the barest level above a snarl.  
  
“Not for lack of trying. It’s all that I could do not to let you bring shame to your mother’s name, rest her soul.”  
  
Hot bile rose in Justin’s throat at the mention of his mother; he wanted to shriek in the face of this man never to let her name pass his lips, to ask him who the hell he thought he was to say that _Justin_ was the one to sully her memory, but he swallowed the words with the rest of his rage. Instead, he brought the most vapid, blinding smile in his repertoire to his face, and flashed his father a finger gun. “Have a little faith, old man. Third Star’ll be a goddamn feather in the cap of the Carriger name.”

* * *

The week after you had returned from Domino, you had felt like a rockstar. You, and to a lesser extent Richard, were hounded by people in the office who wanted to know what it had been like to be so close to Kaiba Seto, to have been part of such a grand event, to have tasted such glory. The duel, you discovered quite a bit later, had been recorded on many sides – Richard’s Skype call to Jen and Justin, which of course Jennifer had had the presence of mind to save, but also apparently from within the KaibaCorp stadium itself. You had negotiated terms with KaibaCorp’s own legal department over fair use of your likeness, and over the course of release in various countries you found yourself looking up at a flushed, bright-eyed version of yourself for promotional material.  
  
You looked good.  
  
You _felt_ good.  
  
There had been a flurry of odd daymares as you went about your normal routine, integrating yourself back into the office, but you noticed with a sense of relief that they were markedly less intense than they had ever been in the previous fifteen years. During your emergency phone session with Dr. Lucas on the plane trip back, she mused that it was to be expected.  
  
_“Trauma never truly disappears, my dear, and it is to be expected that there may be some lingering vestiges of the initial hurt that have surfaced, now that you have confronted the original source in such a poetic way.”_ The smile had crinkled her eyes deeply here, and she reiterated how astonished and how proud she was of you, but to please never again be quite so reckless without first consulting someone.  
  
But despite the odd blips on the radar during the day, you had never felt so light. You walked among the halls with purpose in your step, and the representatives in your department mentioned with some frequency that the change in your demeanor was inspiring. _Intimidating_, was how Rebecca had termed it, but she said it with such fondness that you couldn’t help but laugh.  
  
You made frequent visits over to Jennifer and Richard’s apartment for dinner, catching Jennifer up on the business side of the visit, and allowing her to gush over the duel.  
  
“See, right here,” she said, pausing the video and gesturing to the television with the remote control. “Right here, the look in his eyes right here? He knows his goose is cooked, and then here – “ she fast-forwarded to show you activating a trap card with a flourish, “ – here is when you realize it, and it’s just, babe, it’s so good.”  
  
You demurred that it was a series of incredibly lucky hands, but she and Richard both loudly protested, and you allowed them the opportunity to take pride in their friend.  
  
Of Justin, you had seen neither hide nor hair of, which struck you as off. It wasn’t quite accurate to say that you had forgiven him for everything that had occurred over the last several months, but it didn’t quite stick in your craw as noticeably either. You had fully expected him to be there with Jen when she had picked you and her fiancé up from the airport, but she waved it off, telling you that Justin had been spending a lot of hush-hush time with the board of directors.  
  
“About the success of the game, presumably,” she dismissed when you asked. “KaibaCorp is a big fish in a huge pond, and we bagged it.”  
  
Though you supposed it made sense, it still didn’t entirely sit right. One meeting, perhaps, to report the hard numbers of the success and determine plans for releases in other markets, but a solid week’s worth? Including weekends, if the rumors were correct?  
  
Nevertheless, you let it go. If Justin wanted to make his presence known, he would. You doubted there would have been a way to stop him, once his mind was set.  
  
Well into the second week after your return, you had sent a flurry of communication back and forth with Kitagawa to help ease the release of the game into the European market. The two of you were ideal for the transition, having had some experience there – his mother, he confided in you, had divorced his father and remarried and Englishman, and the two now lived happily on the Isle of Man. And you with your high school and early university career studying all things French, it made sense to begin your networking there; KaibaCorp did, after all, have offices in those countries, you learned over the course of several meetings with both of the Kaiba brothers.  
  
You checked your watch to ensure that you had sufficient time before your meeting with the KaibaCorp representative in Bordeaux. You had stayed in the office far longer than usual to accommodate the meeting, but between the nine-hour time difference with their office, and the seventeen-hour difference with Domino, you had developed a sense of paranoia about the time.  
  
Duly satisfied that you still had time – about an hour, as you and the Bordelais representative had agreed on a six AM meeting time – you slipped out of your office, relishing the quiet of the empty halls. It had been a long time since the building had been this empty, you realized as you entered the kitchenette on your floor; with the development and excitement of the game and the budding partnership, the halls had been nothing but frenetic energy for almost a year.  
  
You stifled a yawn, punching a button on the single-cup coffee maker, and mentally reviewed the talking points of the upcoming meeting as the machine hissed and steamed and streamed your coffee. Once brewed, you huddled the mug closer to your chest, figures and projections filing through your head as you turned to head back to your office.  
  
“Killer?”  
  
You jumped, a small wave of hot coffee cresting over the lip of your mug onto your hand. Hissing in more shock than pain, you transferred the mug to the other hand and turned.  
  
Justin laughed as he jogged to your side, the elevator doors closing behind him. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you!” He tugged his pocket square free and reached for your hand. “Here, let me see.”  
  
“Justin, it’s past eight, what are you still doing here?” You tugged your hand out of his, checking your watch pointedly.  
  
“Ah, now, I could ask the same of you, can’t I?” He threw a wink your way, tucking the rumpled and coffee-stained pocket square sloppily back into his breast pocket. It occurred to you that this was perhaps the most stylish you had ever seen him dress; his hair was neatly pomaded, and there wasn’t a stitch on him that was out of season or, perhaps more importantly, less costly than your monthly car payment.  
  
You squinted suspiciously. “I’ve got a tele-meeting with the Bordeaux office of KaibaCorp to talk about the European launch. You can’t tell me you forgot?”  
  
Unbothered, he shrugged and smiled. “Can’t forget what I never knew.” Your jaw clenched, and the admonishment was halfway out of your mouth before he raised his hands in submission with a bright chuckle. “Relax! I’ve been busy, but Jen and Dick’ll still update me if they think it’s something I need to know.”  
  
“Ah, yes, your mysterious meetings with the board of directors. Would you care to fill in the rest of the class?”  
  
A strange look came over his eyes then, one that you couldn’t quite place, and for the briefest moment the air became quite heavy. Then, quick as a flash, the brightness returned to his face, and Justin mimed turning a key across his lips. “Mum’s the word on that one, killer. Gonna have Kaiba flying in, best if he explains it himself. But hey, speaking of which, there is something I wanted to talk to you about if you’ve got time?”  
  
Checking your watch once more and feeling a good deal more flustered over it than you felt was reasonable, you shot him a warning look. “It’ll have to be quick, my meeting’s supposed to start at nine.”  
  
A grim smile flickered across his lips, and you found yourself wondering how you had never noticed how deeply some of the lines creased his face. “Don’t worry, killer, we’ll be in and out.”  
  
Shrugging one shoulder in agreement, you nodded in the direction of his office. “Let’s go, then.”  
  
“Ah, no,” he said, moving in front of you before you could take a step toward his office. “Um, hey, wouldn’t it be better in your office? That way I can just slip out, won’t even know I was there.”  
  
Sighing, you assented. “Yes, sure, fine.”  
  
As you settled into your chair, setting the mug neatly onto a napkin, you raised an eyebrow when Justin gently, but deliberately, closed the door behind him before seating himself in the chair before your desk. “Uh-oh, closed door meeting,” you mocked softly. “Must be a big deal.”  
  
If he caught your tone, he did not respond to it, simply flashing a stilted smile as he adjusted himself in the seat. He brought one leg up to cross, resting the ankle briefly on his knee before dropping it back down to the floor, slinging one arm over the back of the chair then bringing it forward to cross both arms over his chest, until finally he settled into stillness by resting his elbows onto his knees.  
  
You canted your head, smiling in a way you hoped was disarming and furrowing your brow. “I was just kidding, Justin, it’s just something that you said – “  
  
“I wanted to talk to you about everything that’s happened.”  
  
The words died in your throat. “Oh.”  
  
A tense silence settled between the two of you, and though there was a desk between you, you swore you could feel him holding his breath. When you realized it was you holding your breath, you inhaled once sharply, then exhaled slowly. “Oh?” you repeated.  
  
“I mean. Yeah. Look, I know I already kinda, like, laid out some of it a while back, but a lot’s happened since then, and I mean, I wasn’t exactly up front with everything – “  
  
“You’ve got that right,” you said sharply.  
  
He ignored the interruption, continuing. “But it was just…I needed to keep a lot of it close to the chest, and I mean I still do, but there are just somethings that I need to say to you about everything before I don’t get the chance to anymore. And I know I messed up – “ here he pressed a hand to his chest, the fingertips of his other hand coming to rest on the edge of your desk, a ghost of the position he had taken so long ago as a plea for your trust, “ – believe me, kid, I know it.”  
  
The crease in your brow deepened, and he looked so sincere that the heat swept from your sails immediately. “I mean, yeah, you did,” you said uncertainly, “but we’re a ways past that. Your plan – I can’t say your plan worked, but you certainly got us this far.”  
  
Justin shook his head vehemently, some of the curls pulling loose from their hold. “No, it’s so much more than that – I mean, yes, it is that, and yeah I mean, we did make it but, like, I just. _I messed up_ along the way, and I didn’t mean to, and you’ve done such a stellar job, and everyone else to, but this is about you right now – because I mean, like…I just, I mean, I walk into a room that you’re in and suddenly everything just gets lighter, and then you talk and like my chest feels warm and – I’m sorry, this isn’t going the way I wanted. Can I start over?”  
  
“Please don’t.”  
  
“Right. Yeah, no, you’re right, probably a better idea. This isn’t the important part.” He ran a hand through his hair, flustered. Then the uncertainty melted away and the lines in his face hardened; very suddenly, you found yourself seated across from someone you had never met before. If the bumbling man you knew was in there somewhere, he was buried very deeply. “Okay, real talk, then. I used you to get something that I wanted – and I got it, but it ended up hurting you along the way. That – that wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t intend – but it did, so – “  
  
“I’m sorry, Justin are you – is this supposed to be an apology?”  
  
“Supposed to be.”  
  
“Good god, you are awful at this.”  
  
He looked as though he was swallowing something sour, then smiled ruefully. “Out of practice. Don’t do it much,” he admitted.  
  
You bit back a spiteful rebuttal, opting to lean back in your chair to chew over the influx of information. Unable to stop yourself, you finally said, “Would you be nearly this sorry if you didn’t…?”  
  
Though you trailed off, Justin spared you having to say the words. “Probably no. But here we are.”  
  
“Here we are,” you echoed, somewhat hollow.  
  
There was a brief moment where Justin’s eyes held yours with unexpected intensity, the silence heavy. Finally, his eyelids fluttered shut with a sigh. “Something I did caused you pain and put you in danger, and I’m sorry.” When he raised his gaze back to yours, the old Justin was back, and it was as though the intense stranger had never been there. “Anyway, wanted to get that off my chest before tomorrow.”  
  
“Tomorrow? Why, what’s tomorrow?"  
  
He rose from his seat, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Like I mentioned, big guy and I wanna meet with you and Dick and Jen.” Though he had returned more-or-less to normal, every line of his posture was exhausted.  
  
You rose to follow him, dissatisfied with his answer – he wasn’t going to leave without some kind of explanation. “Why, Justin?” you repeated doggedly.  
  
The exhaustion reached his face, and he smiled sadly. “Hoping you’ll allow me one last surprise, killer.”  
  
“That’s worked our real well for me so far.”  
  
His head drooped in shame. “I know. But after tomorrow, you’re not gonna have to see me again unless you want to.”  
  
The earnestness in his expression weighted your confusion. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”  
  
He flashed a half-hearted peace sign at you. “S’all right.”  
  
There was a brief moment where he hesitated, before apparently coming to a decision. He took a step, one long stride to close the distance between you, his fingertips hesitantly coming to close around your wrist as he leaned his face into yours, brushing his lips gently, chaste, against your cheek.  
  
He murmured in your ear, “No matter what you decide, I promise that I will never hurt you again.”  
  
And with that, he drew away from you abruptly, sweeping from the room and leaving you rooted where you stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooorry about the wait on this one. I so so wanted to have this done the first week of August, but we're suddenly coming up on week three and I don't know what time is anymore. I hope the chapter makes up for it! I've been looking forward to this one for a while, and while I wasn't able to squeeze as much backstory in there as I'd hoped to, it did give me a neat idea for an AU spinoff that I could possibly develop. Our boy Justin developed some depth, and I just have a lot of feelings for his backstory. And I've been throwing down some hints as to what Kaiba's been doing since the train accident, and now we finally learn about what he's been up to in the wake of that.
> 
> Anyway! We're coming up on the end of the second act here - there is one more chapter until we start moving into endgame. I'ma be real with y'all, the next ten or so chapters have a real, _real_ rough outline, but the end goal is in sight. I cannot believe we have made it this far.
> 
> Speaking of, huge thank you to everyone who left a kudos: MaybelleSaybelle, DedicatedReader, misaogirl1022, soueikaku, PinkSalt, HikariMatsuri, aieamazing, Sylrek, and guests; and everyone who left a comment or sent me a message on Tumblr: sakuchwan, Rose, 5_Stirling_Heartstrings, 6f0909, DabiHaze, SilverStarfall, mia826, Scarletbelle87, BuntheBun, Savage-chan uwu, Gale, and HikariMatsuri, as well as all of my lovely anonymice on Tumblr. Your support means the world to me!
> 
> For the giveaway I announced last chapter, the winner selected by RNG is: **Gale**! Please feel free to leave me a comment here on Ao3 with a short prompt, or you can send me a message on Tumblr if you have questions or whathaveyou. I'm happy to write most anything, provided I know the fandom.
> 
> As always, if you want to see a little bit more of the behind the scenes, you can check out my writing Tumblr [tcheschirewrites](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com). I've been busy this summer with some other big projects, namely White Fang for the Naruto fandom (which I'm probably gonna be changing the title of), but I'm also going to be planning some (what I think are) neat ideas for Yu-Gi-Oh for the coming months (ie, Halloween, y'all).


	20. Diamonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _   
[Whatever said, it didn't mean something. Whatever said, it didn't mean nothing. And did I look the part? When it's all said and done.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKTAXkpGceQ)   
_

The meeting with the Bordelaise did not go well.  
  
By all rights it should have. You had met with them via teleconference a handful of times since returning from Domino for the launch, some with Kaiba or Mokuba on the line and, more lately, some alone. You got along with them well, enjoying their predilection for brusqueness, and if one of them complimented your accent, well, that was just icing.  
  
But once the greetings were out of the way and the actual talking points had come up, you found your mind veering gently off-center; your normally sharp repertoire of business French vocabulary had fled, and you blanked on a frankly embarrassing number of occasions, snapping your fingers and flailing to find and acceptable substitute until one of the Bordeaux team filled in the gap for you. You scrambled to recover from these, opting to smack your head in a show of self-deprecation, joking once or twice around your traitorously thick tongue that maybe it was time for a drink; it sufficed, and you struggled to the end of the meeting with the promise of a follow-up on a to-be-determined later date.  
  
As soon as the light of your webcam went out, you scrubbed viciously at your cheek, willing the itch, the tingling press of lips, away. Your irritation burned deep in your chest, and though you knew exactly why you were so frustrated, you found you could not for the life of you articulate it.  
  
Tapping your fingers against the edge of your desk, you checked your watch: a bit after midnight. Your frustration grew. The meeting with the French office of KaibaCorp _absolutely_ was not supposed to last three hours, and certainly not with as little progress as was made. And to top it off, you’d have to see Kaiba tomorrow – _today, actually_ – and chances were good he would have something to say, given the French team reported to him the contents and progress of the meeting.  
  
You swept to your feet, gathering your keys and laptop bag and restarting your desktop. There was no guarantee that they would do so, you attempted to comfort yourself; thusfar, they had been notorious about only providing status updates on things that were 100% complete. It had been irritating when you needed information, but it was possible it could work in your favor this time.  
  
Trotting down the stairs to the parking lot, you determined that you would simply make it up by being sharper the next time. For now, you reasoned, you needed to get what little rest you were able – six hours, with luck, but the realistic part of you was prepared for less.  
  
If you thought that the commute home, less hectic and cluttered than during normal waking hours, would have calmed you down, you were woefully mistaken. Every painful moment of the past few months flickered in and out of sight just outside of your periphery, echoes of whispers against the shell of your ear, ghosting touches scraping across your skin like sandpaper.  
  
By the time you dismounted the stairs of your apartment building, you were shaking, panting with tension. It wasn’t quite right to call it anxiety, or nerves, or even to call it fury – but the ache in your chest, frenetic beating of your heart against your ribcage, that was a familiar feeling. Pushing into your apartment and collapsing against the door as it closed, you let out a breath you hadn’t even been aware you were holding.  
  
A glance at the clock on the stove told you it was nearing one in the morning, and you gnawed at your lip; a call to Dr. Lucas was out of the question. But you would never sleep like this, and if the (one of many) bombshell Justin teased was accurate, you could not afford to be less than sharp. You had worked too hard to allow, even for a moment, Kaiba to see you as anything less than capable.  
  
You scrubbed at your cheek again, squeezing your eyes shut with the force of it.  
  
_“No matter what you decide, I promise that I will never hurt you again.”  
  
_You wanted to scream. You had been nearing on something resembling forgiveness before he had asked, but something in the sincerity on his face, more bare than you thought you had ever seen him, something about the true and honest acknowledgement of his sins forced the raw hurt of the thing up your throat like bile.  
  
_“Can I start over?”  
  
_There was a part of you that recognized that the reaction you were having was unreasonable. You deserved your anger, certainly, and you would hold it close to your chest for as long as it took breath, but did Justin not deserve his repentance? Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn’t, but it felt egregious, it felt _improper_ to acknowledge that the burden of forgiveness was now on you.  
  
You let out a strangled cry against your fist, biting against the knuckle before you heaved yourself up from the floor, stripping from your work soiled blouse and slacks, tossing them without care along the hallway to your bedroom. You dug out a clean set of running clothes, forcing them on with a semblance of calm, before vaulting back down the stairs to your apartment complex’s gym.  
  
And you ran. Hoping that the steady pounding of your feet against the treadmill would distance you from the throb in your chest, from the great dark clouds that seemed to linger in your periphery, from the look in Justin’s eyes as he left your office. You ran until spots clouded your vision and your breath brought crackles of lightning across your lungs and the gentle murmur of Justin’s oath rattled in your skull.  
  
You still wanted to scream, though the exhaustion had finally begun to get the better of you, the numbers of your stovetop clock blurring in the darkness as you dragged your feet down the hallway and into bed.  
  
Sleep passed in a flash before your alarm screamed at you, and you forced yourself up and about blearily, stripping from the running kit and washing the sweat and fatigue and despair with a too-hot shower. You scowled at the face that stared back at you in the mirror, haunted and seeping with a bone-deep exhaustion. You patted a cooling cream on the bags beneath your eyes, hoping it would help you to look less like a corpse.  
  
The commute was relatively stress free, and you had enough time to swing by a new coffeeshop near the office, downing the beverage in one before you realized what was happening.  
  
Too tired for the stairs, you pressed the button to call the elevator, and slumped against the wall as the doors began to close. You just needed a minute. A minute to come to waking, to compartmentalize your upset with the events of the previous night so you could put a suitable business face on to get through the day’s meetings. With any luck, the day would pass, and you could sort through everything properly when you got home. You could rest.  
  
Before the blessed moment of solitude could be assured, an arm appeared between the doors, bouncing them back to open.  
  
_Goddammit_.  
  
Kaiba acknowledged you with a nod, eyes flickering to the buttons to confirm your destinations were the same. Blessedly, he followed elevator protocol, and situated himself in the corner opposite yours. Still, the weight of his presence, so unwelcome in your current frame of mind, dragged heavily down your spine, and you found yourself refusing to meet his eyes on the occasions he deigned to look over at you.  
  
You felt more than saw his eyes narrow, and his mouth opened to speak.  
  
“Hold the door!”  
  
Out of instinct, your arm flung to the closing elevator doors, smiling stiffly at the intern, no older than perhaps twenty-two, as he jogged into the elevator, his eyes bright with thanks and his cheeks flushed with exertion.  
  
“Thanks. First day, traffic was – “  
  
The boy fell silent upon seeing the other occupant of the elevator, less out of anything that Kaiba was doing and more, you suspected, judging from the slack in his jaw and the wonderment in his eyes, out of hero worship.  
  
The doors settled closed, and you drifted to the back wall. No one moved for a moment.  
  
“Your floor?” Kaiba prompted, the question coming out closer to an order.  
  
“Sixteen,” the intern replied, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him.  
  
Kaiba punched the button for the boy, who remained stock still in the center of the doors, and stepped back, settling close enough to you that you could smell his cologne, crisp woods and ozone.  
  
The elevator jolted to life, the silence of the moment hanging thickly in the air.  
  
You know you had been taking the stairs a lot recently, but was it always this slow? Glancing discretely at the intern, you saw him shuffle to face the doors, aware that he would be getting off soonest; his shoulders sloped into his body, and his fingers tapped a disjointed rhythm against his leg.  
  
If Kaiba noticed anyone’s discomfort, he did not show it, his face toward the floor display above the doors.  
  
A beat passed before your tongue took over.  
  
“When is our meeting supposed to be?” You said it in Japanese, and the tone you affected was forced casual, to such a degree that you saw the intern jerk to avoid looking back at the two of you.  
  
“Soon. Carriger mentioned there was something he needed to discuss with me first before we get into it.”  
  
“Mmhmm. Into what?”  
  
“We’ll discuss it during the meeting. That’s what the meeting is _for_. I see no reason to repeat myself.”  
  
“I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and assume that everyone in that room knows what’s going on except for me.”  
  
Kaiba snorted softly. “Carriger’s poor communication skills aren’t any of my business.”  
  
Ire began to rise in your chest, and you pressed further. “I’m getting awful tired of being kept in the dark.”  
  
“That also isn’t any of my business.” As though that settled the matter.  
  
You breathed out roughly through your nose, biting your cheek to avoid snapping at him. In front of you, you saw the intern’s shoulders stoop more and more, and you could practically feel his desire to be anywhere but here.  
  
The display showed floor 7. The silence settled once more.  
  
“How did the meeting with the Bordeaux office go?” English this time, smooth and unaccented.  
  
You started. Kaiba kept his eyes fixed on the floor display, and his tone was bland. If it hadn’t been for the anxious posture and pointed fidgeting of the developing intern, you would not have been entirely certain that Kaiba was talking to you.  
  
You cleared your throat, schooling your features to calm and continued to watch the display count the floors. “They didn’t say anything to you?”  
  
In the reflection of the polished ceiling, you saw him cock a brow. “I’m asking you.”  
  
A slow breath in. So it was as you thought; the Bordelaise had kept true to form. That, or he had a report from the group leader but was coming to you for another reason. Your eyes tensed, creasing as you narrowed them slightly. “It was last night. It ran a little long,” you said levelly, hunting for a suitable reply. You licked your lips. “Something came up. We’ve rescheduled to complete the discussion at a later date.”  
  
It was true enough, if vague, and you’d hoped, perhaps naively, that it would have been enough. At the swivel of Kaiba’s sleek brown head, though, your heart jumped, and suddenly the warm halogens felt too bright.  
  
“’_Something came up_?’” he parroted.  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“Is there a reason you’re making me wait before telling me what it was?”  
  
From the corner of your eye, you saw the intern’s fist tighten against the leg of his trousers. A thought flashed through your mind, and you forced your features into a smile, feigning obsequiousness.  
  
“Nothing to write home about. Just a minor hiccough.” Here you turned to face him, willing the corners of your eyes to affect the false smile as well. “The French patches and ad copy should be live on the scheduled dates.”  
  
His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off before he had the chance.  
  
“Trust me.”  
  
The elevator _dinged_.  
  
“_Oh thank god_,” you heard the intern murmur faintly as he hurled himself from the elevator, the doors closing behind him with a soft _whoosh_.  
  
Kaiba ignored the boy as effectively as if he had not been there, his brows cocked incredulously. “’_Trust you_?’ What reason would I have to – “  
  
“I think I’ve earned it. I guess you could try to argue that there’s someone out there who’s given more to this endeavor than I have. But it would be a short list.”  
  
Kaiba did not seem to have a response to this, though not for lack of trying; you could hear the gears turning in his mind as clearly as the gentle whirring of the elevator. Finally he shifted his stance to face the doors once more, discomfort roiling a clear storm across his features.  
  
“Do not disappoint me.”  
  
You fairly scoffed. “Why, is that a concern?”  
  
You didn’t think you imagined the huffed laugh, but when you stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye his face was a mask.  
  
There was silence then, for a beat, tingling like static across your shoulders, the tension bleeding from you with each passing moment.  
  
Then: “For as little sleep you must have gotten, you look decent.”  
  
Nothing in the world could have stopped you from whirling and bearing down on him. “_All right, now_,” you hissed, all pretense of cordiality and servility abandoned in the face of such a low barb. “I don’t know what you think – “  
  
His smirk was palpable in the small space. “Your hair is colder than every other part of you, which means it’s still drying. You have bags under your eyes, and you’re trying to hide them, but whatever you’ve used has just made the area red until your blood vessels adjust – eyes are still bloodshot, though. You don’t hide like Harris does, with her sunglasses. And…”  
  
He paused here, and shifted his stance to turn into you, his arm raising towards you. You stiffened at the motion, breath catching in your throat, and you felt his fingers carve through the air beside your face, drag past your throat and shoulders, to reach behind you.  
  
Abruptly, he flicked the tag on your shirt. “Your shirt is inside out.”  
  
Mortified, you reached up behind your neck to clap a palm down onto the tag, heat rising up your chest and throat when you felt your fingers brush against his as he pulled back with a hearty laugh.  
  
“How long would you have gone if I hadn’t pointed it out?”  
  
“Enough,” you grumbled, kneading the muscles of your shoulders with the raised hand self-consciously. “It was a long night.”  
  
_Ding_.  
  
The smirk on Kaiba’s face widened in time with the doors opening, and he stepped from the elevator, only casting the barest glance back at you. “When something _came up_. If you want me to trust you with my company’s interests, you’re going to need to pay closer attention to detail, Chief Marketing Officer.”  
  
For reasons you couldn’t name, the final comment stung more than you would have expected, and after you had to nudge the closing elevator doors to reopen them, you scurried out after him, feeling shamed, the fingers at your neck tingling with residual contact.  
  
You had hoped that you could simply escape to your office, close the door and fix the wardrobe malfunction and get on with your day; presumably the meeting with Kaiba and Justin, Richard and Jen, would have come early on, and there was a part of you that was dreading whatever was to come, eager to rip the bandaid off and get it out of the way. You were tired of surprises, and this whole sordid affair had been nothing but that, one after another.  
  
When you got to your office, though, slamming the door behind you, you found that Jennifer had already curled up in one of your chairs, pumps discarded casually beside it. She glanced up from her phone at you and smiled, and it was the gesture that pulled your guard down, if only a bit.  
  
“Morning slugger.” The corner of her lip curled, and the air around her crackled with conspiracy.  
  
“Morning. Um.” You glanced over your shoulder at one of the glass panels inset near your office door. “Two seconds, I need to – “ You motioned to your shirt tag, and Jen laughed in response.  
  
“Go for it,” she said, standing and moving over to peruse one of your bookshelves. “I’ll start with what I need while you’re at it, if you don’t mind.”  
  
You grunted in response, slipping the shirt over your head.  
  
“So our meeting with Kaiba is going to be in about an hour, but there’s something I need to talk to you about first.” Her tone was light, but there was something just under the surface that you couldn’t place.  
  
“Oh?” You turned the shirt right-side-out with a flick, snapping it smartly in the air once before putting it back on, adjusting it against your shoulders with delicate pinches.  
  
“Justin called me this morning before I got into the office, which was a surprise because I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him getting up before 10 AM – even in college, we had a few morning classes together, and every so often he’d – “  
  
“Jen?”  
  
She chuckled, waving a hand. “Nevermind. Anyway, he called me about an incident last night.”  
  
The tone in her voice became more pronounced, but remained difficult to identify; it didn’t seem ominous, though, and you felt more curiosity than dread. “An incident? Where?”  
  
“To hear him tell it, right about, mmm, there?” She pointed to a spot on your carpet near your door.  
  
And then the dread hit, chilling you. Your throat worked for a moment before you finally managed, “What?”  
  
Jen laughed again. “Why don’t you sit down? Don’t worry, it isn’t what you’re thinking.”  
  
You sat. “I think it’s Justin being a shifty two-faced snake.”  
  
“I mean, you’re not wrong, but you also are.” Jen seated herself in front of your desk – you noticed that while she did not immediately curl up, as she was wont, she did not put her shoes back on. She hadn’t entirely put her lawyer hat on, then, for the little comfort that offered. “I know as much of the details as anyone can, but it’s gotta be kept hush-hush, at least for a little while. Will you trust me if I say it’ll turn out all right?”  
  
Sitting rigid and stock-still, you considered, and she gave you time to consider, watching you carefully with those bright eyes through thick lashes. You had always considered her a friendly presence, despite her role in the company, but with the events of the previous night and with her behavior currently, you weren’t so sure of anything anymore.  
  
“I’ve heard a lot of that in the last few months,” you said finally, leaning back into your chair with some effort to relax.  
  
“Fair,” she conceded, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing her skirt. “And you’ve had a rough time of it, coming from the outside like you have. Me and Dick, we’ve known Justin a long time, and we’ve always known about some of… But I’ve never lied to you. And neither has Dick. And if you’ll just give me this hour, I promise that we can explain everything to you later. Like a funny story we’ll be telling, years from now,” she added, a bit wistfully.  
  
You were silent for a moment, then, “Does Kaiba know what’s going on?  
  
“Kaiba?” That took her aback for a moment. “I think he knows the broad strokes, but not specifics. Why?”  
  
“Just – “ You felt your throat get tight.  
  
Jen was out of her chair in a flash, rounding the desk to crouch beside you. “Oh, honey, no. _No, no_. Look. I _promise_ that when this is all over, I’ll buy us takeout and we’ll watch a shitty movie and I’ll tell you the whole thing, but _right now_ I have to get a statement from you.”  
  
“A statement?” you snapped. “What, like I assaulted Justin, or some nonsense? I swear, this shit is getting more rancid – “  
  
“Actually,” Jen interrupted, and the corner of her mouth curled upward once more. “According to Justin, it’s the other way around.”  
  
All of the wind left you. “He what? No, he didn’t – nothing like – “  
  
The smirk stayed firm on her face, and she took her seat again – you noticed vaguely that she tucked one leg underneath herself. “No? According to him, he cornered you right about there and forced you to kiss him.”  
  
Placing her phone gently face-up on your desk, you saw that the recorder app was going.  
  
Her smile widened, retaining a mischievous, almost vindictive quality to it, and she propped her elbows on your desk, steepling her fingers and depositing her chin atop. “Is there another version of the story you’d like to tell?”  
  
Your head swam. On the one hand, this could be a trap. Justin had certainly proven himself capable of pulling a long con, you thought, remembering how easily he had shifted personalities the night before, like a snake shedding its skin – and to hear Jennifer tell it, this was a longer con than you had any perception of. The paranoid part of you, growing larger with each passing day, whispered harshly that you were being used, a sacrificial pawn in a game larger than you could have imagined.  
  
But on the other hand… Jen waited patiently, unhurried and unprompting, simply smiling calmly at you with that strange glint in her eyes.  
  
The pieces didn’t add up. If you were being used as a scapegoat for something larger, it wouldn’t make sense to paint Justin in the role of villain, especially not having come this far and depended on you for so much during the entirety of this partnership. Indeed, the more you thought about it, for all that Justin had connived and kept secrets from you, it was starkly apparent that you could have brought the whole thing crumbling down with a word.  
  
If anything, the trust Justin had placed in you was far greater than the trust anyone else asked. He had well and truly placed the future of his company entirely in your hands.  
  
And now his reputation as well.  
  
You gnawed your lip, finally sighing. “That isn’t exactly how it happened.”  
  
“Well then. I’d love to hear _exactly_ how it did.” With a delicate finger, Jennifer nudged the phone closer to you. “Please. Take your time. You can start whenever you’re ready.”  
  
With the limited amount of information available to you, you ended up relaying the truth. All of it, starting with the promotion to CMO, to the initial trip to Domino, when Justin had revealed the tip of the iceberg and your reaction to it. You included the friction between yourself and Dale, and the resulting friction between Justin and Dale, who prior to then had been exceedingly close. You laid out the return trips to Domino: the train accident, the launch, the duel. And then, finally, you detailed the apology Justin had stumbled through the night before, the confession that neither of you quite seemed to want voiced, and, finally, the single kiss just inside your office door.  
  
Jennifer listened patiently through all of it, nodding periodically but keeping silent. At one point, she had dug out a small notepad, and jotted brief notes occasionally.  
  
When you had finished, she held up one finger, and tapped the stop button on the recording. She busied herself for another moment or two, scribbling a few more notes into her notepad, but from the curve of her shoulders you knew it had more to do with giving you your privacy after such a long period of bald exposure.  
  
Distrustful of the situation though you were, you still appreciated the small kindness.  
  
With a final aggressive underline, Jen looked up at you, and her demeanor had changed as well. It was no longer the ferocious lawyer seated in front of you, but your friend. Though there was some comfort in it, you felt further unsettled by how easily these people changed skins.  
  
“Ready?”  
  
Honestly, wearily, you answered, “No,” glancing up at her as she stood.  
  
The old Jen, familiar Jen, was back in full force, tossing her thick hair over her shoulder in a laugh. “Can’t say I blame you. But it’s almost over, babe. You’ve done so well.”  
  
“That’s incredibly condescending, thank you.” You stood with a sigh, following her out of your office.  
  
She grimaced in apology, and the two of you remained silent during the walk to the open door of Justin’s office. She gestured for you to enter first, and you found that all three men had already gathered: Richard sat in one of the chairs before Justin’s desk, legs bouncing impatiently, and Kaiba lounged, one ankle on the opposite knee, on the couch along a side wall.  
  
As for Justin, he stood facing one of the windows, hands clasped behind his back. When he heard Jen close the door behind her, he turned – no matter how subtle, you did not miss the nod they exchanged, nor the flicker of Justin’s eyes over to Kaiba’s – and flashed the two of you a pair of finger guns, clapping his hands together and rubbing them in anticipation.  
  
“All right, good, we’re all here. Uh, big guy, you wanna…?”  
  
Kaiba raised a hand, indicating for Justin to continue on his own.  
  
“Right on. Cool, all right. So, Jen, Dick, you guys have an idea of what’s coming – and killer, maybe you’ve figured it out…?”  
  
You were flabbergasted. Was he truly trying to get out of simply laying the facts out? Kaiba seemed to think so too, and snorted his amused derision. Richard, too, seemed irritated by the display.  
  
“Justin.”  
  
Raising his hands in a gesture of submission, Justin grinned. “Just tryna gauge the temperature of the room a bit.”  
  
“It’s chilly,” you clipped out. “Why don’t you just say what you need to say?”  
  
From where she stood at Dick’s side, Jennifer nodded again at Justin, and he sighed.  
  
“Right. So. As you know, we’ve been working hard to get this partnership with KaibaCorp via the Duel Monsters mobile game. Through all of our efforts, and through a series of successful alpha and beta tests, we launched just a couple of months ago, also to great success. During this time, the subject of not just a partnership, but a merger, was floated and, eventually, accepted.” Though he was clearly uncomfortable, glancing occasionally to where Kaiba sat as though the other man might offer some assistance, and he spoke from rote, Justin didn’t waver; he stood straight, tall, and his chin lifted upon the last word. He cast a glance around the room, settling his eyes onto yours, gauging your reaction.  
  
It was Dick who spoke, though. Knowing full well where the decision lay, he directed his question to Kaiba, rather than Justin. “Will you define merger for me, please.”  
  
Kaiba’s lips twisted, and he looked as though he were restraining himself from making a snide comment. From the look in Richard’s eyes, though, he seemed to decide the result was not worth it, and simply replied, “For the last few months, our companies have been operating in a vertical structure. What is being discussed here is a full buyout.”  
  
The word rang in the air like punctuation.  
  
Justin jumped in before the grenade could go off. “Now I know what you’re about to ask, Dick, and I’ve asked Kaiba to throw together some numbers for you. I’ve got copies for everyone here.” He rifled along the top of his desk, finally retrieving a stack of neat envelopes, which he distributed. Dick immediately dived into his, the look in his eyes simultaneously cautious and mutinous. Though Jen took hers, she made no move to open the file, presumably already knowing the contents.  
  
You took yours numbly; rather than look through it, though, you leveled a look onto Kaiba. “Buyout?”  
  
Kaiba did not respond, his expression remaining perfectly still as he held your gaze; once again, Justin responded for him.  
  
“You got it, killer.” You noticed the motivation behind every action now, and in a clear attempt at levity, Justin cocked a finger gun at you. “Our main man here has thrown together one hell of an acquisition offer, and after a lot of thought, and some discussions with the board, Third Star has accepted. He’s even letting the company keep the name.” His smile was rueful.  
  
_How kind of him_.  
  
Justin clapped his hands together. “Now. I imagine you guys are all going to need some time to think over this – as majority shareholders, we’re the ones who hold the future of the company in our hands. It’s a big decision, and I don’t want you to take it lightly. We’ll reconvene when we’ve all come to an agreement, yeah?”  
  
Everyone stood one by one, at first awkwardly and then with purpose – Justin hesitated, glancing over at you as though he wanted to say something, but Dick barked at him to meet in his office, and he nodded his head once at you before scurrying to follow. Jen trailed after him, looking harried.  
  
Taking unbothered steps closer to you, Kaiba leaned against the edge of Justin’s desk.  
  
“Spit it out.”  
  
Your eyes snapped to him at the Japanese directive, and the slightest glance at your reflection in the mirror told you there was the flame of murder in your eyes. You chewed on your tongue for a moment, canted your head. “A buyout,” you repeated.  
  
“Yes. And?”  
  
The entirety of the last twenty-four hours broke over you in a wave, then, and you absently saw your reflection screw up her face into a grimace. “After all of this – the work we did for you – and these _people_ – “  
  
“Stop.” Impatiently, Kaiba brought the tips of his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Look, this – what did you call it?”  
  
“A start up,” you supplied weakly.  
  
“A start up.” His face contorted around the words, as though they had spoiled; his tone dripped with his disdain, emphasized by a rare instance of his clipped accent coming through. “Well. You’ve started it. I’m simply here to make sure it hasn’t finished.”  
  
You turned the response over in your mind for the briefest of moments before, dissatisfied, you narrowed your eyes. “This is what you wanted all along. It was never simply about having a place to dock in the States, it was about buying out the whole damn harbor.”  
  
“This again?” he scoffed. He didn’t bother to hide when he rolled his eyes this time. “Are you still so biased against me that you can’t see this for what it is?”  
  
“I see it for what it is,” you shot back. “You’re monopolizing so that – “

Until this point, Kaiba had remained seated, propped against the edge of Justin’s desk, but at that accusation he rose immediately to his full height and took one long stride, drawing just short of you to tower over you. “Don’t. Don’t even. You’re too smart to believe that this move is anything but reasonable for both sides.”

It was apparent it was taking all of his considerable will not to spit the words at you, but he continued coolly; “Both my department managers and, yes, even myself were satisfied with the work provided by the Third Star team – they’ll be given the option to keep their positions once the merger is complete. More than that, all compensation will increase by at least eight percent, and benefits packages are being put together by my human resources team as we speak. Do you not think that the employees of a company deserve to be rewarded appropriately for the work they put in?”

You bit down onto your cheek. “That’s putting words in my mouth. You’re a huge corporation, and you’re – “  
  
“You want to talk about putting words in one anothers’ mouths?” Kaiba barked a laugh here, crossing his arms over his chest with the backwards toss of his head. “I am not the villain here. If anything, I want to save this company. If you want to start throwing righteous accusations about having a lingering motive, you’ll want to take that fight to Carriger.”  
  
The bottom of your gut sank, and the realization that he was right began to crest. Nevertheless, on top of everything else, it felt like a betrayal, and you could not school your face into anything but a grimace of disappointment.  
  
Silence settled into the tiny space between the two of you, and Kaiba let it, regarding you calmly through narrowed eyes. When you merely met his gaze with defiance, he clicked his tongue, turning back to the table where his folio case sat.  
  
“Demonize me if you want. You have that right. But if you decide to come to your senses and make peace with the fact that this is an intelligent business decision – “ He tugged a folder from the case, extending it out to you, locking those blue eyes onto yours; “ – then maybe you’ll consider growing along with the rest of the company.”  
  
You flicked your eyes down to the folder once, before returning back to his; you did not move to take it. “What is this?”  
  
“What else would it be, foreigner? It’s a job, if you’re not so stubborn to look.”  
  
That lit the fire in you once more, bitterness swarming your mouth. “You want me to take a job with KaibaCorp after all of this?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Just that. Simply _yes_. No barbs, no sniping, no backhanded compliments, and though his eyes continued to bore into yours with characteristic intensity, you found none of the scorn you were expecting, and it swept all of the wind from your sails.  
  
The extended arm holding the contract had not moved, and hesitantly, delicately, you plucked the folder from his grasp. “Only me?”  
  
A snort. “Of course not. Harris has the offer I’ve extended to her and Grant.”  
  
“And Justin?”  
  
Kaiba hefted the folio into his hand, propping it over one shoulder. “Don’t be stupid. I’ve gone to great lengths to ensure that _makeinu_ never sets foot in my building again. Whatever is going on in the hollowed-out gourd he calls a head, KaibaCorp wants none of it.”  
  
The dizzying rush of emotion that had been building over the last few minutes stifled your mind, and you could only offer a huff of laughter in agreement, eyes glazing over as you poked open the folder in your hands to scan the first page of the offer.  
  
“Obviously I can’t have you being my Chief Marketing Officer.” His tone was the mildest it had been all day, but there were depths of untapped scorn in the single sentence. “But the proposal is reasonably suited to your actual skill level, and I’m certain you’ll find the compensation more than adequate.”  
  
None of his words quite penetrated as you grew more and more dazed at the situation, anger and betrayal ebbing into a dull throb where your heart was. Eventually, your gaze focused, locked onto a series of words. “The position is in Domino?”  
  
If Kaiba were capable of pity, his expression would have been drenched in it; as it was, however, you found his jaw and brows settled into what, on any other person, would have been a ‘_duh_’. “Yes,” was all he said, his tone deeply inscrutable, the barest inflection curving the word.  
  
“I’d be relocating to Domino.”  
  
Impatiently, presumably eager to head off the impending circular conversation, Kaiba brushed past you to the door, halting only for a moment. “The acquisition isn’t entirely finalized; I’ll be here until the end of the week.” He paused only briefly before continuing, “This is an opportunity you’ll never see again; I’d recommend thinking it over carefully, if you can set aside your hatred of me for long enough.”  
  
And then he was gone, sweeping from sight as he so often did, having had the last word and leaving you dumbstruck in the center of the conference room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a Thanksgiving Day miracle, y'all. Loads of excuses as to why this is _so late_, but I won't go on about it lol I really appreciate everyone's patience, though! I'm gonna try harder to get this story back on track moving forward - it'd be wonderful to get back to the kind of momentum I had before the virus hit.
> 
> We missed it, but a little while back this story had its first birthday! Happy birthday Culture Shock! I accidentally made you a Scorpio, apparently, and it's what you deserve. If you missed it, there is an extra little [somethin' somethin'](https://tcheschirewrites.tumblr.com/post/634085643609309184/in-honor-of-culture-shocks-first-birthday-i) that I posted on Tumblr to mark the occasion
> 
> Big shout out to Phoenix2812, elemira, Harata_Riku, AnOmensLetters, Okamichann, Gracemeria, SterlingStorm, Eboni_Napalm, Queenofthekill, rumblefish, KylieKittie, ZoeyRedbird and guests for their kudos; and also to DabiHaze, HikariMatsuri, 5_Sterling_Heartstrings, sakuchwan, Anon, Gale, ZoeyRedbird, nOmensLetters, barbieshitposts, Gib, and all of my lovely anonymice for chatting with me in the comments and on Tumblr. Everyone’s support means the world to me, and this fic wouldn’t be here without you all.


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